Face The Music
by ELM22
Summary: Grissom makes a life changing decision when he must sacrifice himself in order to save one of his own. Will he be able to survive the horrible ordeal that ensues and will the team be strong enough to stand in the wake that follows? Major M warning! Dark!
1. Chapter 1

WARNING: This story gets very dark the more it progresses. It has a lot of main character torture and rape. It's definitely MATURE. So if you are UNDER 18 or are offended by this kind of writing or have a weak constitution than you should read something else.

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its characters, (Some future characters are mine though. ) they belong to CBS. So Pleeeeeeeease don't sue me!

Face the Music

Chapter One

The end of the shift, everyone's favorite part of the workday and it was no different for the employees of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Gil Grissom walked into his office and dropped the small stack of files he was carrying on his already cluttered desktop. He looked down at the scattered piles and sighed. _Somewhere, _he thought to himself, _I'll have to find the time to sit down and complete all of this paperwork. _He made a disgusted noise in his throat and ran a hand over his tired face. He tried to avoid doing it as much as possible but realized that sooner or later it became inescapable. Eventually he was going to have to come in here and clean up this mess. He picked up another file folder and walked back out of his office. Most nights were busy for them. Three or four cases, causing them to work doubles or triples. This night had been different. There had only been two cases to work that night. One was a traffic fatality which had shortly been determined to be the fault of the deceased who had been intoxicated while behind the wheel. Once fault had been determined they had worked cooperatively on the only other case available, a home burglary, or worked on unfinished reports. Gil was the lead investigator on the home burglary case and Greg Sanders was his second, who volunteered to stay behind and finish processing the scene if Gil would go back to the lab and start the paperwork. He reluctantly agreed and was tempted to pull seniority to keep from having to do the dreaded task. Gil walked down the corridor of glass windows and into the conference room to meet with the rest of his team of investigators and hear their reports before the end of the shift. He walked through the doorway and dropped his folder down on the table. He went to the small counter and prepared himself a cup of tea. He took a sip of the hot liquid and sat down at the end of the long, dark table. The others had been sitting here for some time and Nick Stoke was trying to perform a card trick for Warrick Brown and Sara Sidle, who were all sitting at the opposite end of the table. Warrick, a tall dark man with matching bushy hair, and Sara, a shorter brunette with beautiful chocolate eyes, were trying to hide their amused smiles as he struggled to remember the finish. Gil was watching him with the same amusement when Catherine Willows and Homicide Detective Captain Jim Brass entered the room. She laughed at something Jim had said and poured them both a cup of coffee. She sat down next to Nick and Jim took the seat opposite hers. Gil decided it was time to save Nick from himself and start the meeting.

"Can we get started?" He asked. "I'm sure that we would all like to go home."

Everyone laughed at the defeated expression on Nick's face as he lost his grip on the cards, sending them fluttering across the table.

"That's okay, Nicky." Catherine playfully patted him on the arm. "You can try again tomorrow."

Their laughter was renewed by the comment and it took a moment for them to compose themselves.

"Where's Greg?" Warrick asked as he regained control.

"He's still at the scene on Henderson, but he should be back anytime." Gil replied as he tried to smother his own smile. "I know it's been a long night, so let's just get this meeting over with so we can all go home."

Just then his cell phone rang and he rolled his eyes as he reached into his pocket The others snickered at his annoyance. The caller id read Sanders and he opened the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Greg, where are you?"

_"Mister Grissom."_ Stated an unfamiliar, masculine voice on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?" Gil's brow furrowed with confusion.

_"You're in no position to ask questions._" The voice warned then continued after a short pause. _"Are you missing something, Mister Grissom? Or someone, I should say._"

It took Gil a moment to connect what this stranger was saying. A man with an unfamiliar voice was calling from Greg's phone. The others watched him now, each of them being caught up in the single sided conversation.

_"He's a very handsome, young man, this Gregory Sanders."_ The voice suggested.

"What have you done to him?" Gil asked, trying to mask the sudden sense of fear that gripped him.

He had done well to sound calm but panic had etched itself across his face and now his team of investigators and the seasoned detective became more alert by his expression.

"_Nothing yet. He's not what I want."_

"What do you want?" Gil asked hesitantly.

_"It's not what I want, but who._" The unknown voice seemed to tease.

Gil swallowed hard against his heart which felt like it had jumped into his throat. Now it was more of a struggle to keep his voice calm and the others exchanged worried glances.

"Who is it that you want?" He asked after a long pause.

"_You, Mister Grissom._" The voice replied calmly. "I want you."

Gil's thoughts were a ramble of confusion. He couldn't recognize the voice. A torrent of images from crime scenes passed flashed through his mind. The faces of the victims were replaced with Greg's face. There were too many bad things that could have happened. Was he, at this very moment, fighting for his life? He was shaken from his thoughts by the voice of the stranger.

_"Would you like to speak with him, Mister Grissom?"_

"Yes." He forced out of his now dry throat.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment then he heard the unknown voice instruct Greg to speak.

_"Grissom?_" Spoke the shaken voice of the younger man.

Gil stood up from his sat at the sound of the familiar voice and his body tensed at the sound of younger mans voice, He could tell Greg was trying to be brave but he could hear the underlying pain and fear in his tone.

"_Don't do anything he says._" Greg hurriedly replied.

The phone was taken away from Greg's ear and Gil heard a slap in the background after which Greg tried to stifle a groan.

"Greg!" Gil yelled into his phone.

_"Temper, temper, Mister Grissom._" The unfamiliar voice returned.

The others had jumped from their seats and the tension in the room had become palpable. Some passing lab techs stopped at the noise and were now staring into the open room.

"If you've done anything to hurt him-" Gil's voice a warning and the fear on his face had turned to anger.

"_You're hardly in any position to make threats!_" The man snapped, then after a long pause he spoke again with calm. "_Do you know what the round of a forty-five can do to a human skull?" _Another, shorter pause. _"Do you want to see young Gregory alive again?"_

Gil conceded any sense of control that he might have had over this conversation.

"Yes." He said submissively.

"_Good, then you will do as exactly what I tell you to do. He shouldn't have to pay for your crimes."_ The words were cold.

Gil's face changed from anger to confusion. His mind raced to remember what kind of wrong he had done in the past to make someone believe that he needed such a drastic punishment.

_"Your silence tells me that I have your attention._"

Gil was again torn from his thoughts and he quickly tried to understand what had just been said. _Attention._

"Yes, I'm listening._"_

"_Good, I don't like to repeat myself." The voice warned._

"What do you want me to do?"

Gil's heart clenched at the words as a memory of Nick's kidnapping flashed into his mind. Standing in a dank storehouse in front of the non-menacing figure of Nick's captor. Sliding the bag of money across the floor, hoping for his colleagues safe return. The man revealing the explosives he had strapped to his body. A blinding flash of light and heat as he was thrown backwards onto the floor and covered in a rain of blood and money.

"_You will stay there until you hear from me again." _The voice commanded_. "Do you understand?"_

"Yes."

"_Oh,"_ He said as if remembering one last detail_. "And the next time you go out to Henderson be sure to take a body bag."_

The line went silent and Gil looked at the screen to confirm that the call had been disconnected. He stood in shocked silence. How could this be happening again? He stared at the wall, unable comprehend what had just happened until a voice broke through the daze he was in.

"Gil?"

His eyes were torn from the wall and he looked down to see Catherine looking up at him with concern covering her face. He stoically looked down at her hand where she had put it on his arm and she gave him a gentle squeeze, encouraging his to speak.

"Greg's been kidnapped."

The others looked at each other as a renewed tension fell over them. He looked back up at Catherine then at Jim.

"But he doesn't want Greg."

His fear filled eyes met Sara's, who was still standing at the opposite end of the table. She didn't need to hear the words he was about to say, the look on his face was enough to fill her heart with grief for she knew what his answer would be.

"He…" Gil looked back to Jim. "He wants me."

There was a long moment of silence as no one could find the ability to speak.

"He said…" His voice was barely more than a whisper. "If we wanted to see Greg again, that I had to do exactly what he said."

"Wait a minute." Jim said, finally finding his voice. "We're not just going to go along with this."

"Not we, Jim. Me." He waited a moment then spoke again before Jim could argue. "He mad reference to what forty-five could do to the human skull then said that the next time we went out to Henderson we should take a body bag."

Everyone was silent. Gil let his words sink in before speaking again.

"He told me that I was to stay here, but I think that someone needs to get out to that burglary scene."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Gil stood up straight and stretched. He had been stooped over for forty minutes dusting for and lifting prints. He took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. Greg Sanders looked up from where he was collecting samples. He looked at the older man with raised eyebrows.

"You ok, Grissom?"

"Yeah." Gil shook his head. "I think I may be getting too old for this."

Greg smirked and decided against making one of his typical, smart ass remarks.

"You know, we're almost done here." Greg offered. "I _could_ finish up here if you want to go back to the lab and start the paperwork."

Gil didn't miss the playful twinkle in the young blonds eyes.

"What?" Gil narrowed his eyes with the same playful demeanor. "Do you _want _to be suspended, Greg?"

"How about rock, paper, scissors then?" He suggested after a short pause to think.

Gil raised an eyebrow and looked him in the eye.

"You, have been spending _way_ too much time with Nick and Warrick."

"Come on," Greg challenged, holding out one of his fists. "What have you got to lose?"

"My dignity, for one."

Gil wasn't sure if he was amused or annoyed. He _was_ sure though that if he was annoyed it was only because he was tired. Somewhat reluctantly, he held out his right fist and, copying Greg's chant and following his actions, played the simple children's game. After three fist pumps Greg held out a flat hand and Gil stood with a defeated look on his face, still holding out his fist.

"Paper beats rock _every_ time." He gloated.

"Boss fires horrible employee… _every_ time."

Gil tried to hide his smile, but Greg saw it and a triumphant smile stretched across his face. He threw his arms up over his head.

"I am the winner!" He yelled.

Outside the remaining police officer looked up at the open door and shook his head before returning to look down at his cell phone.

"Alright," Gil laughed. "Which one do you want?"

Greg took a moment to think, even though he had already made his decision.

"I…want…crime scene."

Gil let out a long, disgusted sigh and bent down to gather his things. After closing his kit he stood back up and gathered the already bagged evidence.

"I'll take this back to the lab." He said, looking at the still triumphantly smiling Greg.

"I won't forget this, Greg." He wagged his finger as he headed towards the door. "Especially when evaluations come around."

He could hear Greg laughing as he made his way down the concrete walk. He bid the officer farewell as he walked to his black Denali. He put his kit and the evidence in the back seat and paused for a moment to look at the view of the sun rising over the horizon. A light breeze blew through his curly locks and he smiled as he took in a breath of fresh air.

Greg watched through the broken living room window as Gil drove away. He still couldn't believe that Gil Grissom had just played rock, paper, scissors with him and lost at that. He looked around and determined what was left to be done. He had just gone back to the window that he was dusting for prints when he heard a noise in the kitchen. His brow furrowed with confusion and he wondered what could possibly be walking through the other room. He ignored the feeling that he should call for the officer and slowly stepped towards the kitchen. He stepped inside and was instantly grabbed from behind. A strong arm wrapped around his neck and his right arm was twisted behind his back.

"Help!" He screamed.

A fist came out of the dark and hit him across the mouth. Within seconds he heard the officer run into the kitchen and when the officer grabbed for the first assailant Greg tried to twist out of the man's grip. The man let go of his choke hold, but not Greg's arm and as Greg twisted out of the man's grasp he felt a surge of pain shoot up and down his right arm as his elbow was torn from its socket. He screamed out in pain as he dropped to his knees, holding his injured arm. He was grabbed by the second man and pushed face first

onto the tile floor. While the officer struggled with the first assailant a third stepped from the shadows and held a gun up to the young mans head.

"That's enough!" He yelled.

The officer let go of the man and when the man turned around he drilled his fist into the officers stomach, effectively dropping him to his knees. Greg turned his head to see what was happening and as he did a deafening shot rang out and the officers body dropped to the floor in front of Greg and lay still. Greg's eyes widened in horror as he watched the dark blood quickly begin to pool around the dead mans head. He felt the cold steel of handcuffs being slapped onto his wrists then heard duct tape being pulled off its roll and torn from the rest. The man covered Greg's mouth with the duct tape and pulled him to his feet. Greg's cries of pain were muffled by the tape as the first assailant, who had grabbed Greg and dislocated his elbow, lifted him and draped him over his shoulder.

"Shut up," A cold voice warned. "Or we'll beat you until your unconscious."

Though Greg forced himself to be quiet he did nothing to stop his tears. The pain in his arm made him feel like he was going to pass out, but the fear that clutched his heart kept him wide awake. Every step the man took a step it sent fresh pain through the appendage.

The cool, early morning air touched his skin as they went out the back door and into the alley. He heard the sound of a sliding door and was thrown into the back of a van. He landed on his injured arm and couldn't hold back the scream of pain as he slipped into darkness.

"Come on, boy." A man gently urged.

The sound of the voice wandered to Greg's ears.

_Grissom! _He thought, hopefully. _You've come to rescue me!_

Slowly the darkness began to turn to light as he was coming back into a conscious state of mind.

"Grissom?" He mumbled the question.

He was instantly awake when a hand slapped him hard across the face. He groaned loudly as his head was snapped around. He tried to throw his arms up to block if a second hit was coming but could move his arms. They were cuffed to the chair he was sitting on. When he tugged at his right arm a fresh wave of pain shot through the limb. His head dropped and he felt the panic begin to rise in him.

_Definitely not Grissom!_

"Calm down, kid." The voice instructed. "Before you hyperventilate or something."

Greg then realized that his breathing was rapid and he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths until he was finally calmed back down to a reasonable rate. After a few minutes he forced himself to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. When he looked up he saw a tall man standing before him. Greg estimated him to be at least six feet tall. He wore a black ski mask and matching black tee shirt, jeans and boots. For a second Greg wondered if his socks matched the rest of his outfit but mentally shook himself. He needed to stay focused. If he got out of this he wanted to be able to give as much detail as possible. _Not if!_ He scolded himself. _When. The team will find me._

He heard shuffling feet behind him and two more men walked around so that they stood in his line of vision. They wore the same outfits, except one of them didn't wear a tee shirt. He wore a nice looking black dress suit. _The Boss._ Greg entitled him in the back of his mind. When the man spoke Greg decided it was true.

"Well mister…" He looked at Greg's badge which he held up in his hand. "Sanders."

The Boss bent over so that he was eye level with Greg. An overwhelming sense of fear took hold of him as he looked into the dark eyes of his kidnapper.

"W-what, what do you want from me?" He stammered.

The Boss's lips curled up in a sneer.

"I want you to sit there, like the good little boy that I'm sure you are, and play bait."

_Bait!_ Greg's mind raced. _Bait for what?! _

"W-What?"

"You'll see what I mean."

The Boss stood back up and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a cell phone that Greg recognized as his. He watched the man casually flip open the phone and scroll through the list of numbers until he found the one he was looking for. He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear. After a few seconds the man began to speak.

"Mister Grissom."

Greg's brow creased with confusion. He thought he detected a sound of great satisfaction in the man's voice, not the threatening tone that he expected.

"You're in no position to ask questions." The Boss warned.

He turned to look at Greg and the sneer had changed to a sadistic smile and the hate in the his eyes made Greg tense.

"Are you missing something, Mister Grissom? Or someone, I should say."

Greg mentally kicked himself when he realized what was happening. _If I hadn't been so stupid._ He scolded himself. The Boss reached his bare hand out and caressed Greg's face. Greg turned away but the Boss's smile only grew wider.

"He's a very handsome, young man this Gregory Sanders."

Greg's heart froze at the thought of what his voice suggested. He shut his eyes tight and tried to force out the horrible images that were appearing in his mind.

"Nothing yet." The Boss reassured. "He's not what I want."

Another pause.

"It's not _what_ I want." The Boss teased. "But _who_."

"You, Mister Grissom." The Boss continued calmly after a long pause. "I want you."

Greg's racing mind stopped when the words forced their way into his brain.

_He wants Grissom? Holy Shit!_ A new self-hatred welled in him when he realized that he had been set up. _Officer Talbot is dead because of me and now they want Grissom. Didn't Talbot have a wife and kids? _He knew that Grissom would most likely do whatever was asked of him and that made Greg hate himself all the more.

"Would you like to speak with him, Mister Grissom?"

The boss held the phone down to Greg's ear.

"Talk." He ordered.

"Grissom?" He failed at trying not to let his voice sound shaky.

He wanted to hide the fear so that Grissom wouldn't worry as much. He knew had to do something or say something to deter Grissom from giving in to any demands.

"Don't do anything he says." Greg said hurriedly before he could be cut off.

The Boss ripped the phone away from Greg's ear and backhanded him hard across the right side of his face. He tried to stifle a groan as his head was once again snapped around. He vaguely thought he heard his name yelled from the phone speaker but wasn't sure.

"Temper, temper Mister Grissom." The Boss soothed mockingly.

The Boss's eyes flashed in anger and his voice changed to treachery.

"You're hardly in any position to make threats!" He snapped.

Greg could taste copper as blood from his split lip oozed into his mouth. Once again he forced himself to calm and regained control of his breathing. His head felt like it was spinning and he gently closed his eye's to make the room stop moving.

"Do you know what the round of a forty-five can do to a human skull?" The Boss continued.

An image of Officer Talbot flashed in Greg's mind. The man laying in front of him, most of his skull gone and the blood pooling around his head, slowly making its way to wear Greg helplessly lay close by.

"Do you want to see young Gregory alive again?"

Greg's mind froze as the words drifted through his daze.

_Alive again?!_ His mind screamed. _They're going to kill me! _His heart skipped a beat and he gasped at the thought. The Boss looked at Greg and smiled a victorious smile.

"Good, then you will do exactly what I tell you to do. He shouldn't have to pay for your crimes."

His words were cold and Greg didn't miss them. He couldn't possibly imagine any crimes that Gil Grissom would have committed. He was one of the good guys. Wasn't he?

"Your silence tells me that I have your attention." He paused for the response. "Good, I don't like to repeat myself."

Greg heard the warning in The Boss's voice and it reminded him of a teacher he'd had in the third grade who used to talk down to the students like they were just dumb kids.

"You will stay there until you hear from me again." He commanded.

"Oh," He said as if remembering one last detail. "And the next time you go out to Henderson be sure to take a body bag."

He shut the phone and slipped it back into his jacket pocket. He looked at Greg with a sadistic smile and again caressed the side of his face.

"Let's hope for your sake, he's as smart as he claims to be."

The insult, although small, made Greg mad. Grissom _was_ smart. He had taught Greg everything he knew about being a Crime Scene Investigator and he couldn't just let an insult like that about his mentor slide.

"You better believe he's smart. He'll find me and you'll sitting in jail cell crying for your mother." Greg spat out.

The three of them laughed and walked out of the dank room, locking the door behind them. To his right Greg noticed the plain table against the wall and to his left he saw chains hanging from the ceiling that were separated by the two foot steel bar that hung between them. He swallowed hard and silently prayed that the team found him soon. Then he was plunged into darkness as the over head light was turned off.

TBC

A/T: I did my own Beta reading so any mistakes are mine. Keep sending me reviews, I like to hear what you guys thinkJ Gil Grissom, secret criminal??? Hmmmm.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Gil sat in his silent office, surrounded by his collection of bugs and books. The low-key lighting making the insects look darker and scarier. More like something out of an old horror movie than their real life selves. The silent tension that filled the room was almost unbearable. Even the crickets had felt the tension in the air and were quiet. He had sent Brass, Nick and Warrick out to the scene on Henderson thirty minutes ago and had not heard from them yet. He had shut himself in his office when they left and hadn't gone out since. That's not why he sat like stone, watching his cell phone which lay on his desk, though. He intently watched his phone waiting for the second call. Waiting for his chance to rescue Greg from the man who had taken him. He absent mindedly messaged his right temple, but his gaze was never broken from the object of his focus. He had tried to tell himself not worry, that it would do neither him nor Greg any good if he worried, but it was impossible to keep it from oppressing itself on him. The images that his mind conjured up terrified him and no matter how hard he tried to change gears in his mind the images would push themselves through.

"Gil?"

He looked up to see Catherine and Sara standing in front of him. He hadn't heard them the number of times that they had knocked or when they had let themselves in or when they had tried to get his attention the first two times. Catherine was worried that it was his hearing acting up again but didn't pursue the thought any further when he looked up at them and she saw the lines of concentration on his face. It almost looked to her like he had been trying to will the cellular phone to ring and was losing an uphill battle.

They looked tired and disheveled to Gil. They had matching dark circles under their eyes and worry lines across their faces. _They could almost be twins. _He thought absent mindedly.

"How are you doing?" Catherine asked.

He missed the concern in her eyes at seeing the worry in his. When he looked at her an image of her daughter flashed across his memory. An image, of him, at Lindsey's tenth birthday party. The smaller, almost identical version of her mother, blowing out the candles on the cake and her mother giving her a loving hug from behind. Such a proud look on her face.

He slowly shook his head but said nothing.

"I called Ecklie." She continued. "He's on his way in."

He nodded then turned his gaze to meet Sara's. The tall brunette met his baby blue orbs with her own chocolate ones. He could see that she was fighting back her tears. Probably not wanting to reveal herself in front of Catherine. Although the relationship between the two women had come a long way since Sara joined them several years ago they still had a rough history together and Sara found it very, very difficult to fully trust most people with her personal thoughts and feelings. He knew that she needed to be held and comforted by him and he looked back to Catherine, who hadn't missed the silent connection between her two friends, and her face softened with compassion.

"Can you give us a minute?" He quietly asked.

"Sure." She whispered.

A lump had formed in her throat upon realization of their secret relationship and her eyes began to mist as she also realized what was about to happen. She wondered how long it had been going on between the two of them and kicked herself for not catching on earlier. _Some CSI you are, Willows. _She thought, almost bitterly, to herself.

She quietly shut the door as she left his office and hurried to the bathroom. She entered the first empty stall and, after locking the door, sat on the seat of the toilet and wept. Although he hadn't said so she was sure that she was about to lose one of her closest friends. Once, after they had rescued Nick from his would be plexi glass grave, Gil had confided in her how guilty he felt about Nick being in that horrifying position. He had told her, with the hint of a tear in his eye, how responsible he felt that Nick had almost lost his life while being under his supervision. She had tried to console him that he hadn't ordered Nick to go. It had been between Nick and Warrick to decide and, besides, they had rescued him and he was alive. Gil had not been swayed though and although he had never spoken to her about it again she always new that he still felt guilty and responsible.

As soon as the door was shut Sara lost her reserve. She covered her face with her hands as hot tears flooded down her cheeks. In a swift movement he was around to the front of the desk and wrapped his arms around her. She buried herself into his chest and wept freely. His heart ached as he knew that his decision might break her. There was nothing that he could do about that. He could not leave Greg to an unknown, but most likely terrible, fate. As he did his best to sooth her sob wracked body she lifted her head just enough to speak.

"I don't…want… to lose… you." She managed to plead between sobs.

Tears began to fall from his own eyes and into her hair. The thought of hurting her so badly made him hate himself.

"I know." He whispered.

Silence hung over them and was broken only by her muffled sobs. The desktop phone rang, startling them both. He reluctantly released her and she reluctantly moved away. He picked it up on the third ring.

"Griss-." His voice caught and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Grissom."

_ "Hey, it's Brass. Sorry it took me so long to call you, but this place is a mess."_ The detective sighed. _"Officer Talbot was shot in the back of the head. Execution style."_

Brass sounded as matter of fact as anyone could sound, but Gil knew he was just trying to detach himself after losing one of his own so he could complete the task at hand. It was Gil's turn to sigh. He was sure he knew the answer to his next question but he still asked.

"What about Greg?"

_ "Greg's not here. His kit's here and his SUV is still parked on the curb, but no Greg."_

"What about the scene?"

Sara stepped over to the door in order to compose herself. She took a couple of tissues from a box on a nearby shelf and wiped her eyes then blew her nose.

_ "We're pretty sure the kitchen is where it went down. That's where we found Talbot."_ Another sigh. _"It's a mess in there, Gil. We're gonna be here a while."_

"Alright, I'll send out someone from days to help with the processing as soon as they start coming in, which should be…" He looked down at his watch. "In about half an hour."

There was a reluctant pause on the other end of the line and Gil could picture the other man debating whether to ask his question or not.

_ "Any more word from the kidnappers?"_ Jim finally asked.

"No, not yet. I'm still waiting."

"_Alright. I have to question a few of the neighbors. I'll talk to you later. Gil?"_ He paused to wait for a reply.

"Yeah?"

_"Hang in there._" His friend encouraged.

"Thanks, you too."

Gil set the receiver down in its cradle and looked to where Sara was standing, casually watching his pet tarantula sit in its tank. He watched her until she realized that his conversation was over and turned to face him again. He gave her a weak smile in an attempt to cheer her up.

"I should probably go clean up." She motioned to her tear stained face and red rimmed eyes.

What was intended as a light joke came out sounding awkward and they both stood silently for a moment.

"Yeah, probably." He forced a half smile.

As she put her hand on the door knob he stopped her.

"Sara?"

"Yeah?"

She turned back to face him and couldn't miss the sorrow in his eyes. He crossed the short distance to where she stood and caressed the side of her face with his hand and she leaned into the simple embrace.

"I'm so sorry for all the times that I hurt you." He paused for a moment to think. "The last eighteen months have been the happiest months of my life and I am so grateful that, despite everything I put you through, you still love me and have shown me how to love."

She smiled as again tears began to fill their eyes. She threw herself into his arms and tightly embraced him, not wanting to let go.

"I love you too, Gil" She choked through the lump in her throat.

He pushed her back far enough to kiss her passionately on the lips before letting her go and she left his office. He felt his heart speed up its pace and he began to feel anxious over what might happen. Just as his mind was about to return to the images of before the interruption his cell phone rang from where it lay on his desktop. He turned and stared at it, his heart gripped with fear, until he mentally shook himself and answered it on the fourth ring without looking at the caller ID.

"Grissom." He said hurriedly.

"_Away?_" Asked the voice of Greg's kidnapper. He sounded annoyed.

"I'm sorry." Gil tried to appease.

_ "I don't want your weak apologies!" _He snapped. _"They won't do you any good!"_

There was a long silence and Gil didn't dare speak.

_ "Are you listening?"_ The kidnapper finally asked.

"Yes."

"_Good."_ Gil thought he detected a sadistic tone. "_From now on you will call me sir. Is that understood?_"

Gil swallowed hard and was sure that it was audible on the other end of the line.

"Yes…sir" He tried to hide his hesitancy but was sure he failed.

The nervousness beginning to well in his stomach was making him nauseous. His breathing had not calmed and now he closed his eyes and forced the air slowly in through his nose, deep into his lungs. Then slowly out his mouth and back into the room.

"_Good._"

Gil thought that he could hear a smile in the man's voice and he definitely heard the satisfaction.

_ "Are you ready to save Gregory?_"

"Yes, sir." No hesitation this time.

"_Good. Then do exactly as I tell you to or you'll upset me. You wouldn't want to upset me would you Grissom?_"

"No, sir."

He was fighting the powerless feeling that was overcoming him and he was losing. He couldn't understand why but each time he called the unknown man sir he felt a little more humiliated and a little less in control.

_ "Good. This is what you're going to do so listen carefully because I don't like to repeat myself."_

Gil remembered hearing him say that when he called before. Another thing to add to the faceless profile. He's impatient.

_ "Quietly get in your car, you're going for a drive. Do not tell any one that you are leaving. If you are followed Gregory will lose his life. So be sure that you are not. Do you understand?"_

"Yes, sir."

"_I'll even be kind enough to let you leave a goodbye note to your friends, so be quick."_

It took Gil a moment to realize that the man had not hung up and expected Gil to remain on the line as he quickly tried to figure out what to write and to who. He sat back down in his chair and grabbed a pen and pad of paper. He thought for a moment, then hesitated for another. He quickly wrote out his note and stuffed it into an envelope. After sealing it he wrote the name James Brass on the front and left it in plain sight on his desk.

"Alright," Gil sighed. "I'm done."

_ "Good. Now walk to your car and talk to no one, and above all do not disconnect this call. Consider it Gregory's lifeline."_

The thought sent a chill down Gil's spine as he walked out of his office. He walked down the familiar glass walled corridor and was silently thankful when he didn't see Catherine or Sara and no one tried to stop him for anything. He made it past Judy who was sitting at the front desk and through the front door into the parking without saying a word to anyone. He passed two uniformed officers on his way out the door but all they said to him was good morning. He climbed into his SUV and shut the door. He hadn't realized that his hands were shaking until he tried to put his key into the ignition. After the fourth attempt he pushed the key into its slot and turned the engine over.

"Where…do you want me to go, sir?" The hesitancy returned to his voice.

_ "I want you to head North on I-15 to Moapa Valley and remember, do not disconnect this call."_ There was a pause. _"Oh, and by the way, we have quite the sophisticated police scanner and we can pick up any calls that you may try to make over your radio. Let me just remind you that young Gregory's life depends on you. Do you understand?"_

"Yes, sir."

He put his car into drive and followed his orders.

Attn: Wow, that chapter was hard to get started. I'm not too good when it comes to the mellow stuff. I never understood why all the other writers liked receiving reviews so much. That is until I started to publish. They're what gets me up in the morning. Seriously though, I love hearing (or reading rather) from you guys. Tell me what you think of chapter three and perhaps it'll keep me motivated to do the chapter four. Peace out. -Esther


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

Jim sat in Gil's office chair. He slumped in the high back leather chair and his face and eyes conveyed a storm of emotions. He was angry at Gil for not trying to contact him. He was grieving at the possible loss of such a close friend. He was troubled by the responsibility that had been entrusted to him. Dangling loosely from his right hand, ready to fall if Jim should let go, was a plain sheet of white paper. On one side it was blank and on the opposite was written the last letter of Gilbert Grissom.

He had still been at the crime scene on Henderson boulevard. He had just finished questioning the second set of neighbors about the kidnapping and like the first, they had seen and heard nothing. He turned in time to see two department vehicles pull up and park at the curb just a few feet away from where he stood. He watched as a man climbed out of the car and two women climbed down from the SUV parked behind him. He recognized the man as Charles Henderick. He was one of the best detectives that they had on the day shift and the two women, although he couldn't remember their names at the moment, were the best CSI's that days had to offer. The term was not used lightly. Jim reached out to shake Hendericks' hand just as his cell phone started to ring. He rolled his eyes and smiled. Hendericks released his hand and Jim reached into his pocket for the small device. The ID read Sidle. He flipped it open and held it up to his ear.

"Brass." His usual, flat answer.

"_Jim, he's gone!"_ Sara yelled hurriedly over the other end of the line.

"Whoa, whoa." Jim held up his free hand as if she could see it. "Slow down, Sara. Who's gone?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Sara calmed herself.

"_Gil's gone and he isn't answering his cell phone."_

The color drained from Jim's face as he felt his heart stop. He had to ask her to repeat her last statement and he still wasn't sure that he believed it.

"_He left a letter for you on his desk." _She continued and Jim could tell that she was trying not to cry. _"It's sealed."_

"Okay. Days just got here, so we'll be back to the lab soon."

He shut his phone, disconnecting the call, and absent mindedly slipped it into his pocket. He quickly filled Hendericks in on the situation and went to find Nick and Warrick, who were doing the same in the house with the two daytime investigators. Once he told them of Sara's call they hurriedly gathered their things and rushed to their vehicles. Jim hadn't totally believed Sara but was convinced after his fourth failed call to Gil's cell. Then he even called Gil's home four times only to receive the answering machine every time.

Upon returning to the lab Jim ran straight to Gil's office and found the letter that Sara had told him about. He sat down in Gil's chair and picked up the plain, white envelope. His heart was pounding as he examined it thoroughly and when he was satisfied that it was indeed Gil's writing he carefully tore off the end of the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper. With nervous hands he unfolded the paper and began to read.

_Dear Jim,_

_At this moment I am on the phone with Greg's kidnapper and he has instructed me to leave. I do not know where I am going, but I hope that by giving him my life he will be true to his word and spare Greg's. Somehow, I think he will._

_You once entrusted me with your life and now I wish to do the same. Sara and I have been in a relationship for the past eighteen months, but I have loved her since first meeting her seven years ago. She has mentioned in the past that she thinks of you as a father and I only ask one thing of you. Please, take care of her. You are my best friend, Jim, and I know you will do this for me the best you can. You are an honorable man and I know you will look after her._

_Sincerely, Gil_

Jim had read the letter five times before he could put it down. Still holding the letter he forced himself to his feet and left Gil's office. He walked down the corridor, rounded the corner and walked the final steps to the break room. The graveyard team all looked up at him when he entered. They had all been huddled around the couch, doing their best to comfort each other, especially Sara. They parted as Jim stoically walked between them. His eyes connected with Sara's and she saw through his tears to the deep sorrow that lay beneath and knew that her worst fear was true. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks and she slowly shook her head from side to side. She refused to accept it but he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She buried her face in his shoulder and wailed her pain for the world to hear. He did nothing to stop his own tears as they spilled down his face and allowed Catherine to take the letter out of his hand. After reading it she passed it to Nick and Warrick for them to read. Each of them spilled fresh tears and they all silently vowed anew not to quit until Gil and Greg were home and they were a whole family again.

It had taken Gil an hour to reach Moapa Valley. The whole time the unknown man remained on the other end of the line. Gil knew this because once in a while he would pick up his soft breathing pattern or hear him hum a few notes of a song, but he never spoke to Gil until he reached his destination.

"_Take your next left."_ The man ordered.

Gil was taken aback. There had been no one following him so how did they know where he was. _They must have put a tracking device on the truck. _He thought to himself and was about to ask but remembered himself and simply replied.

"Yes, sir."

He hoped that they had been dumb enough to do it in the parking lot at the station and get caught on surveillance but doubted it. He made the left turn onto a dirt road. He drove another two miles until he came to a single old and rundown looking airfield hanger.

"_Pull up to the hanger."_ The man ordered.

Gil pulled to a stop in front of the seemingly rundown building and shut off the engine. A tall man wearing all black, including a black ski mask, appeared in the doorway.

"_Get out of the vehicle and walk over to him."_

Automatically Gil unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door and climbed down from the SUV. He felt as though he were not in control of his own actions, as if someone else were making his legs move. Which was a good thing, he never would have run away but he wasn't sure if he would have been able to move forward on his own. He finally came to a stop in front of the man and hadn't realized that he was still holding his cell phone to his ear until the man grabbed it out of his hand. For a moment he panicked when the man closed the phone and flung it across the open room. The plastic device bounced a few times then skidded to a stop on the other side of the hanger. In one quick, fluid movement the much larger man grabbed the front of Gil's jacket and threw him into the hanger bay. His left knee hit the concrete first, taking the full force of the fall, then he fell face forward onto the hard surface. He groaned at the pain that was now emanating from his injured joint and rolled over, hugging his knee closer to his body.

He stopped when he saw a familiar form kneeling only a few feet away from him. He pushed himself to his feet and limped over to Greg. He eased himself down on his right knee in front of the younger man. He looked more pale than usual and his eyes were dulled with pain. Gil saw that his wrists were handcuffed behind him and reached out his hand and put it on Greg's right arm, but he quickly removed it when Greg winced and choked back a cry of pain. He carefully examined Greg's arm and drew his conclusion when he saw the massive swelling and bruising centering around his elbow.

"Greg." Gil called softly.

Slowly the blonds eyes turned to meet Gil's and Gil saw the first signs of recognition in his glazed over, blue eyes.

"Grissom?"

Greg wasn't sure if what he saw was real or not. Perhaps the overwhelming pain in his arm was making him hallucinate.

"Yes, it's me, Greg."

_It is real!_ Greg thought to himself as relief washed over him like a surging tide.

"You came for me?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Griss." Tears welled in his eyes and his breathing became more labored as he tried not to cry. "I should have been more careful."

"It's okay, Greg." Gil reassured. "It's not your fault."

Those words were like a healing balm to Greg's aching soul. He had felt so guilty about getting into this situation that he was certain that his mentor would be most angry if he ever saw him again, maybe even hate him.

"Hello, Mister Grissom." Spoke the familiar voice of the kidnapper.

Greg flinched at the sound of the voice and Gil slowly and painfully rose to his feet and turned around to meet the owner of the voice. Half way across the hanger, so as to be out of sight of the doorway, was parked a black Chevy van. A man in an all black dress suit and shoes casually walked around vehicle and in their direction. His face was hidden by the black ski mask that he wore and he wore black leather gloves on his hands. He was the same height as Gil but with a slightly smaller build. The man that met Gil at the door now stood close to his left and a third man, that Gil hadn't seen when he entered, stepped in close to his right side.

They each grabbed one of Gil's arm while the man to his left handcuffed his wrists behind his back. The man in the suit drilled his fist into Gil's stomach, doubling him over and sending his air out in a whoosh. The two men yanked Gil upright by his arms and he stood , gasping for air.

"Let's go." Ordered the suited man.

The two men half-pushed, half-dragged Gil to the van and didn't stop when he spoke.

"What about Greg? You can't leave him here." He pleaded.

"Can and am." The suited man replied without looking back.

He slid open the back door and the two cronies pushed Gil inside.

"Gag and blindfold him." The suited man ordered then climbed into the passengers seat.

The cronies climbed in behind Gil and one jumped on him, ramming his knee into the middle of Gil's back. Gil felt one of his ribs snap like a twig and gritted his teeth as he unsuccessfully tried to muffle his cry of pain. The two men only laughed, which sent a shiver up Gil's spine. The second crony had picked a gag ball up off the floor of the van and forced the large, black rubber ball into Gil's mouth and hooked the straps behind his head. Then he took a long strip of black cloth and wrapped it around Gil's head as a blindfold. Cronk, as Gil had sarcastically named the first man in his head, shut the door and climbed into the drivers seat. When Gil heard the van start he panicked. They were going to leave Greg, arms restrained be hind him, stranded in the middle of the desert and there was nothing that he could do about it. He tried to scream through the gag and roll over. The second man, Bonzo as Gil had silently endeared him so to speak, sat back on the bench and put his heavily booted foot between Gil's shoulder blades effectively holding him down on the floor and keeping him from rolling or wriggling around. The weight of Bonzo's foot on Gil's back made it difficult for his to breath and he eventually gave up screaming for gasping and realized that they were not listening when they turned the radio on and turned up the volume to drown him out. They hit the main road and headed further away from sin city.

A/N: Hey everybody. Sorry it took me so long to publish but I went to my grandparents for three days and it turned into four when my grandmother was admitted into the hospital. Don't worry though, she's home now and doing better. (she's a tough old bird) They don't have a computer so I was technologically deprived (or is that depraved?)

Anyway, sorry to my subscribers if you were resent the first three chapters of my story (just delete them) because I fixed it, then it screwed up, then I deleted it and republished with the fixed copy. (what a headache *rolls eyes*)

Some of you have been sending me these neat little things (I think their called *struggles to think very hard* reviews) I like them (more please) Those of you who have reviewed have been great! Very helpful, very encouraging. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and come back to find out what happens to Grissom and if Greg will make it out of the desertJ Peace out. -Esther


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi everyone, thanks for being patient and sorry it has taken me so long to publish this one. You guys have been awesome in your reviews! I find them really encouraging and some of you have even given me some good ideas to add to the story, so don't stop nowJ Please, oh please, oh pleeeease tell me what you think!

Chapter Five

Gil had lost all track of time and location. After riding for what seemed an eternity the van pulled to a stop. He was pulled out of the van by his ankles and brought to stand upright. The lighting behind the blindfold had changed since being brought back into the sunlight but he still could see nothing. The ball gag had made it impossible for him to swallow so his spit turned to drool, which now dribbled down his chin and into his beard. He was led a short distance and into an abandoned warehouse.

It was a small building in comparison to the others in the small, abandoned warehouse district. Each looked as lonely and forgotten as the next, or last depending on how you looked at it. It made the perfect place to hide for few days and in the end dump a body. It was a solo district, away from the city and its only current occupants were rats and bugs. A place where no one could hear you, no matter how loud you screamed.

He was half dragged through the front door of the warehouse, through the larger main area and then down a short hallway until they reached the room of his worst nightmares. Cronk punched him in the stomach, doubling him over, then put Gil's head between his legs effectively holding him in the stooped position. Bonzo unlocked the handcuffs and Cronk pulled off Gil's jacket and shirt in one quick movement. Gil tried to be fast and pulled off the blindfold. He knew he couldn't fight them, but if he could just get a head start out the door then maybe he could get to a phone before they could catch him. He wasn't fast enough. Cronk's large fist caught him in his left eye and he fell backwards, landing hard in the concrete corner. The two cronies pounced like lions coming in for the kill. Gil tried to shield his head and face with his arms as they rained down a torrent of kicks and punches. Their steel toed boots battered his arms and legs as he tried to curl into a tight ball. A steel toe connected with his left knee and he felt a searing pain shoot through his leg as the bone fractured. Three blows to his left side left him gasping for air. After less than a minute that passed like an hour they stopped when the suited man called them off.

"We want him to last a little longer, boys. We're not done with him yet." The well dressed man sneered.

His shoes and socks were pulled off and he was unsteadily hauled to his feet. The two me dragged him over to a heavy, metal chair and dropped him onto it. Bonzo shackled his wrists to the back of the chair then gathered his clothes and shoes. The three men left and locked the door behind them.

Darkness was encroaching on him but he tried to fight it. He tried to push through the fog that was clouding his mind but he knew there was no point in trying. He panted for breath and tried to force himself to calm down. It was getting darker. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. He thought of Sara, his beautiful Sara. He began to worry about what would happen to her if he died. The more he thought about it the more he began to regret his decision. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind.

_They were there._ He thought to himself._ They will take of her. Jim will take care of her._

His head dropped as darkness overcame him and he passed out.

As the van made its U turn in the air hanger then drove past Greg. He vaguely registered a clinking sound as something metal hit the concrete in front of him. He watched the van, somehow mesmerized by its appearance, until it disappeared into the distance. When it was no longer visible he snapped out of his dazed state and became aware of his surroundings. He suddenly remembered the sound and looked down at the floor in front of him. There in front of him, in contrast to the dirty cement floor, lay a small, silver key.

He very carefully and slowly turned around, edging all the way and still almost toppling over several times, until finally he was sitting with the key behind him. He picked up the key with his left hand and tried to maneuver it with his fingers. The key dropped to the floor with a clang and Greg cursed out He loud.

"Shit!" He hissed through his clenched teeth.

He groped around on the floor searching for the key. The movement made the pain in his right arm intensify.

"Gotcha!" He said triumphantly as he grasped the key.

This time he pushed through the haze of pain and put his full concentration on his task. After a few more minutes of struggling he heard a click and felt the steel cuff on his right wrist loosen before falling off. He grinned. Pleased with himself he took a minute to rest before pushing himself to his feet. It took all of his concentration and all of his strength but he forced the fingers of his right hand to work the key and unlock the remaining cuff. He knew it wasn't dire to have it removed but he needed to get rid of the feeling of the restraint. The cuffs fell to the floor and he stood still, with his eyes closed, for a few minutes to gather himself.

After he was somewhat recomposed he opened his eyes and looked around. Then he saw something square and black laying on the floor.

_A cell phone! _He thought excitedly.

His legs ached from kneeling for too long so he took careful, deliberate steps until he loomed over the device.

_Please work. _He silently begged as he carefully bent down to pick it up. He clutched the phone with his left hand and slowly rose back into his standing position.

He flipped open the phone with his thumb and the screen lit up. He let out the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding and it came out as a loud sigh. He was caught a little off guard by the picture on the screen. A smiling Sara Sidle looked back at him. She looked so happy in the picture that he felt lost in her smile for a moment. He mentally shook himself. He figured it must have been Grissoms phone, but he could ponder that and the picture later. He was surprised to see that the phone was actually picking up a small signal, but his spirits sank a little when he saw that the battery bar was in the red. He quickly searched the directory and immediately found Brass' number and dialed it. It rang twice and was answered.

"_Gil?"_ Jim asked excitedly on the other end of the line.

The words were static coated.

"No it's Greg. They took him and left."

"_Oh."_

Greg noted a touch of disappointment in the single word but brushed it off. He knew how the older man felt as he would be a little disappointed too if he were in Jim's shoes. The line cut out for a second and came back with more static.

"_Where are you, Greg?" _

It was becoming increasingly difficult to understand him but Greg had heard his last words and instinctively began looking around the open space.

"I don't know." He paused for a moment. "I think I'm in an old air hanger or something."

"_What?" _Came a crackled reply.

Then he saw the old, weathered sign over the doorway. It was difficult to make out what it said and he had to squint his eyes to read it.

"Garrison Air Field, Moapa Valley." He blurted out.

Then he realized he didn't hear any static, no crackling noise, nothing. He looked down at the phone. There was no picture of Sara. No lights. The phone had died. He hoped beyond hope that Brass had at least heard some of his location. He eased himself back down onto the floor and slowly lay down. He still clutched the phone in his left hand as though it were a prized possession. Hopefully it had saved his life and whether it did or not he wouldn't let it go. He closed his eyes and if he'd had any conscious thought it would have surprised him how fast he had fallen asleep.

At the lab all they could do was wait. It was well past the end of their shift and on any regular day they would either be at Frank's diner enjoying breakfast or on their way to their homes to get some much needed rest. None of them wanted to go home though. They wanted to be here in case some new lead was found or some new witness stepped forward. They had all talked to Ecklie and told him what had happened. Even now they wracked their brains hoping to remember some small detail that they could have missed. They couldn't, they had told him all that there was to tell.

Ecklie had known that there was no use to order them to go home so he never attempted to. They had reluctantly shuffled off to Gil's office to stay close, but out of the way. Jim and Sara sat side by side on the sofa. Catherine sat on her other side and Nick and Warrick sat in the two chairs in front of Gils desk. Nobody had made a move to sit in his office chair. Somehow, it just didn't seem right.

Jim hadn't left Sara's side since she had read the note that Gil had left. The note seemed so final. Like he knew that he would never see them again. Sara read it twice, looked at Jim and grabbed him in a hug. She felt more protected when he was nearby.

Jim looked down at the brown leather of the sofa. He remembered the day that Gil had suckered him into helping him move it into his office. Promises of the biggest steak he had ever seen had made Jim chuckle and concede. It ended with them getting it wedged in the doorway with Jim in the office and Gil out of the office. Nick had just been walking by and Gil asked for his help.

"Just give it a little shove." Gil had suggested.

Nick was a little too enthusiastic and eager to please and put all of his weight and strength into his 'little shove'. The sofa popped through the doorway, throwing Jim back against the desk. He lost his grip on the piece of furniture and it crashed to the floor and onto his toes. The ensuing 'Son-of-a-Bitch!' resounded through the halls of the lab.

He smiled a little when he remembered limping for the next few days. He shook his head, suddenly disgusted with himself. It was like he was remembering the good times he used to share with a loved one who had just passed away. _Gil's not dead. _He scolded himself.

None of them had eaten anything more than coffee and snacks from the vending machine. Sara hadn't taken any thing more than a cup of coffee.

Suddenly Nick jumped excitedly to his feet and snapped his fingers.

"I'm such an idiot!" He yelled. "The GPS on his new phone!"

The others, except for Sara, caught on excitedly. She sat there and looked more like crying.

"Yeah." Warrick joined as he rose to his feet. "We can track him."

"It hasn't been working." Sara sadly shook her head.

They all looked at her, a little confused.

"He's been meaning to take it to the dealer and have it fixed." She looked down at her lap where she played with her fingers. "He just gets so side tracked sometimes, you know?"

Fresh tears began to form and Jim wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Nick and Warrick sat back down dejectedly. Sara leaned into Jim as she let fresh tears fall.

When his cell phone rang he removed his arm in order to answer it. He pulled it out of his pocket and surged to his feet when he read 'Grissom' on the caller ID. He quickly flipped open the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Gil?" He asked excitedly.

Everyone jumped to their feet and gathered around him.

"Oh."

He looked a little disappointed, making them all more anxious. Each of them silently wished that they could hear both sides of the conversation.

"Where are you, Greg?"

They whispered excitedly to each other and he shushed them. His brow furrowed in concentration to hear the young man through the static.

"What?" Jim raised his voice a little.

The line went dead and he looked down at the phone in his hand, confirming the call had been disconnected. He shut the phone and dropped his arm back down to his side. He was silent as he looked at the others, confusion evident on his face.

"Well, what did he say?" Catherine asked impatiently.

"I couldn't get all of it through the static." He said. "Something about Garrison Field."

He looked at each of them hoping perhaps they could clarify. Nick hurried around the desk and opened Gils lap top computer and the others crowded around him.

"Where are you not going to get a signal in Vegas?" He asked, but already knew the answer.

"The desert." Warrick answered, quickly catching on.

Within minutes they had found the only 'Garrison Field' on the map and were running out the door. Jim was immediately on his phone to dispatch, requesting two patrol cars and an ambulance. As they headed out the door they met Ecklie.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Jim just got a call from Greg." Catherine replied.

She didn't stop to talk and he had to jog to keep up with her.

"We think he's at Garrison Air Field in Moapa Valley." She explained.

"And Grissom?"

"We don't know. The call was disconnected."

They hurried past Judy at the reception desk and out the front door.

"Keep me informed." He yelled as she ran off towards Jim's vehicle.

She waved her response and jumped into the back seat. Jim was driving and Sara sat in the seat next to him. She was glad that Ecklie hadn't wanted to tag along, but it pissed her off that he hadn't at least mentioned it.

They tore out of the parking lot. Nick and Warrick on their tail and two squad cars behind them. They met the ambulance a short time later and they all formed their train East.

Greg woke from his deep sleep when he heard a familiar voice.

"Las Vegas police!" Jim yelled as he and the uniformed officers made their way through the door.

The hanger was obviously empty and he waved for the others to join them. Then he noticed Greg lying on the floor on the other side of the hanger. He ran over to him and knelt down next to him.

"Greg?" He spoke softly.

Greg's eyelids fluttered open and then quickly shut to block out the bright, afternoon sunlight.

"Greg, it's okay. We're here." He reassured the young man and put a hand on his shoulder.

All of the others rushed over to them but stood back to let the paramedics care for their charge. They watched as they paramedics checked his vitals and administered an IV. When they wrapped the brace around his arm he screamed and eventually passed out. Minutes later they loaded him onto the stretcher and rolled him out to the ambulance. Nick and Warrick volunteered to stay and work the scene and Jim would take Sara and Catherine with him to the hospital.

They followed the ambulance to the Desert Palms general hospital and Jim pulled the car into an empty parking space. They went through the automatic doors and over to the reception desk.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jim Brass of LVPD and this is Sara Sidle and Catherine Willows, they're CSI's." He said to the young blond nurse behind the counter. "We came in with Greg Sanders."

She looked down at the computer in front of her and after typing in his name she looked back up at him.

"Yes, they just brought him in."

Jim forced himself not to roll his eyes.

"We know," He forced his small smile. "We need to be kept informed of his condition." "And we'll need to collect evidence." Catherine interjected.

"Alright." The nurse replied. "I'll be sure to tell the doctor and nurses working on his case."

They nodded their thanks and walked into the waiting room. There were a few people sitting on the other side of the room and they looked up to see who was entering. Catherine excused herself to go call Ecklie as she had promised and Jim and Sara sat down on the sofa in the corner.

She leaned against him and he looked over at her tired face.

"You need to get some rest, kiddo." He quietly said to her.

She looked at him and gave a half smile. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she gratefully leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

When Catherine returned from making her call she stopped in the doorway. She smiled as she looked at her two friends. Sara sleeping in Jim's embrace and Jim with his head resting on the back of the sofa, softly snoring. She knew how they felt. She sat down next to Sara and picked up a magazine.

Almost two hours later a man in a long white coat stepped into the waiting room.

"Captain Brass?"

Jim immediately woke on hearing his name as did Catherine who had dozed off while trying be interested by the out of date magazine in her lap. Sara woke when Jim started to stand.

"I'm Brass." Jim said as he got to his feet. "How is he?'

"Mister Sanders is going to be fine. They've moved him into a room and you can go see him when we're done here."

"What are his injuries?" Sara asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"He suffered from a posterior dislocation of his right elbow, but the X ray didn't show any fractures. He will need to keep it immobilized for at least two weeks and then if looks well enough he can start the necessary physical therapy." He pause for a breath and to let the information sink in. "Other than that we treated him for a couple of minor abrasions on his face and we have him on intravenous fluids for his dehydration."

He stopped and waited for any questions they might have.

"Can we see him?" Sara asked.

"Sure, we put him on Diazepam for sedation and Fentanyl for pain so he won't wake up for a while and when he does it may be a little while before he's coherent."

They all said their thanks and he left the room to attend to his next patient.

They made their way to Greg's room and he was dead to the world as the doctor had said he would be. His right arm was wrapped in a sling and an IV tube protruded from the back of his left hand. Catherine stepped back out to the hallway and called Warrick and then Ecklie.

A nurse followed her back into the room to register Greg's vitals.

"We need the clothes that he was wearing when he was brought in." She said to the older woman.

"Yes. They're on the shelf in the closet."

After checking Greg's fingernails for evidence of trace and finding nothing she went to the closet and took down the bag containing his things.

"I should get these back to the lab so they can be processed."

Jim nodded and took his keys out of his pocket. She agreed to drop the bag off with days and return with his vehicle. The nurse finished and Catherine followed her out.

Jim took Sara's hand, who sat in the chair next his, and they silently waited for Greg to wake.

A/N: The letter for today kiddies is the letter R. R for Review! Can you review children?


	6. Chapter 6

Warning: This chapter has some naughty words in it, so cover your eyes:)

Chapter Six

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours after being admitted to his room Greg began to stir in his sleep. He quietly whimpered as his head slowly rolled from side to side. Jim and Sara stood from where they were sitting on the other side of the room and moved on stiff legs to his bedside.

"Greg." Sara said softly.

His eyelids fluttered in response.

"Griss-" He started to say but cut himself off.

"It's okay, Greg, wake up." She urged.

"Grissom!" Greg yelled.

His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, his face contorted in pain at the sudden, quick movement of his arm.

Jim stood on the opposite side of the bed as Sara and gently, but firmly, put his hands on Greg's shoulders.

"Easy, Greg." He soothed as he gently pushed him back down onto the bed. "You're in the hospital."

The younger man relaxed a little and closed his eyes for a minute before opening them again.

He looked up and the first thing that registered was the tall brunette standing over his right side.

"Sara." He said tiredly.

"Hey, Greg." She smiled. "How do you feel?"

He took a long moment to ponder her question. As the drug induced fog began to lift he slowly examined just how he felt. The only two things that registered was the pain in his right arm and his parched mouth.

"Can I have some water please?"

She smiled and poured water from the pitcher on his bedside table into the plastic cup sitting next to it. She held the cup to his mouth and steadied the straw with her finger so he could take a drink.

She and Jim both chuckled when he greedily emptied the cup.

"What can I say?" Greg smiled sheepishly. "It gets hot in the desert."

She was glad to hear him joking. It made her relax a little at the realization that he would be okay.

"What about Grissom?"

Greg's question sobered the mood in the room.

"Nothing." Jim shook his head.

Greg suddenly looked like he was about to cry.

"Greg?" Sara took his hand. "Greg, what's wrong?"

He had suddenly remembered the picture on Gil's phone and like a flash of lightening the dots connected. He didn't look at Sara, he couldn't. Instead he focused on one of the ceiling tiles above his bed.

"What is it, Greg?" She urged him again.

His breathing became labored, coming and going through his nose. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth he would lose the last of his reserve. Finally after a minute or two he calmed himself enough to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Sara."

His whispering voice seemed to plead with her and she wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"What are you sorry about, Greg?" She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"About Grissom." He inhaled a deep, shaky breath. "I saw the picture on his phone."

Her face softened more when understanding dawned on her and tears came to her own eyes.

"It's not your fault, Greg." She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. "It's not because of you that this has happened."

He forced himself to look her in the eye and when he saw nothing but sincerity through her tears new relief washed over him.

After he calmed himself and stopped his crying he looked at Jim.

"I want to give my statement."

Jim looked at Sara then back at Greg.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest a little more and get your head clear?"

"My heads pretty clear" He argued.

Jim very much doubted it but took out his notepad anyway and prepared to start writing.

Just after Jim had finished writing down all that Greg had said Catherine burst through the door. She was a little out of breath and hope was evident on her face.

"We have a lead." She almost yelled with excitement.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil bolted awake as the ice cold water hit him in the face and chest and washed down over him. He tried to gasp for air and was momentarily confused when he couldn't. The man in front of him laughed sadistically and grabbed a handful of his hair, violently yanking his head back.

Gil grunted around the large rubber ball still keeping his mouth uncomfortably open. He took short, quick breaths through his nose. His bleary eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to focus through the bright, overhead light and the water dripping into his eyes. When his vision cleared he was surprised to be looking at the face of a man, not a black ski mask. The man laughed again and reached behind Gil's head, causing him to flinch. He unhooked the leather strap and pulled the gag ball out of Gil's mouth. Gil flexed his aching jaw and studied the man.

He recognized him as the one he had designated as Cronk. He was tall, at least a little over six feet, and had a large, very muscular build which bulged under his tight tee shirt. His white skin was quite a contrast to his all black attire and the light shined off his clean shaven head. His face, also clean shaven, looked rough. Like one that he would expect to see one someone who had been in too many fist fights. His dark eyes glared at him.

Gil looked beyond him and saw the well dressed man looking back at him with a smile. He too had removed his mask and was casually leaning against the wall. His brown hair was neatly combed back and his lightly tanned skin looked well cared for.

The suited man and Cronk both looked to be in their late thirties or early forties, but it was a little hard to tell for sure. To Gil's right, sitting on the table that stood against the wall, was a much younger man. His spiked red hair was highlighted with green streaks that matched his jade colored eyes. His restless legs kicked back and forth under the table. He reminded Gil of the high number of punks that he'd had to deal with in his career and thought for a second that Bonzo was a fitting name, but this time was different. This time they were in control, they were calling the shots and he continued to keep his joke to himself.

Cronk stepped back and set down the bucket he had used to administer his wake up call.

"Do you know who we are?" Asked the suited men as he sauntered towards Gil.

Gil searched their faces. He thought he recognized Cronk from somewhere but wasn't sure. He didn't recognize the other two and he looked back at the suited man.

"Does the name, John Shelling, ring any bells?"

Gil thought hard. His mind sifted through years of cases, but he still drew a blank. The man pulled up a wooden chair and sat in front of Gil, their knees almost touching.

"Ten years ago." The suited man continued. "You put him in prison for the supposed murder of three girls."

Suddenly it all came back to him. As he recalled, Shelling had been convicted of murdering his three teenage daughters. Gil had been the lead investigator on the case and all evidence was conclusive, he was guilty.

"I remember," Gil nodded. "He murdered his three _daughters_."

The suited man slapped Gil hard across the face. He tried to put his hands up only to find they were still shackled to the back of the chair.

"Shut your goddamn mouth! They were fucking whores!" He yelled, surging to his feet. "Just like their bitch of a mother!"

Suddenly calming, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, metal clip. He opened and closed it for Gil to see. He wanted to make sure that Gil got a good look at it… and he did. He instantly recognized it as a roach clip and its rows of sharp teeth twinkled in the light. Panic slowly began to rise in him as he wondered what this man intended to do with it.

"John Shelling was my brother." The man continued and Gil paled. "Do you know what prison is like for a man like my brother?"

Gil forced his eyes away from the clip and up to meet Shellings. Shelling slapped him hard across the face again then grabbed his hair and yanked his head down until his chin pressed into his chest.

"Don't you fucking dare look me in the eye! Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you're better than me?!" He screamed as he violently shook Gil's head, never easing his grip on Gil's hair. "Answer me!"

"No!" Gil managed through his clenched teeth.

"No what?!" Again he violently shook Gil's head.

"No, sir!"

He threw Gil's head to the side as he let go of his hair.

A dull headache began where Shelling had almost ripped out a clump of Gil's hair.

"My brother's cell mate made him his bitch on his first night there." Shelling continued. "Have you ever been fucked in the ass?"

The question was blunt and Shelling bent down so that his nose was almost touching Gil's. Gil's breathing became like panting as he focused on Shellings' shoes. He didn't like where this conversation was going and he swallowed hard before shaking his head no.

"In due time."

Shelling's voice dripped with venom and he stood back up. He rolled the clip between his fingers as he seemed to be amused by it.

"You've never had to watch a loved one slowly suffer and deteriorate, have you, Grissom?"

He couldn't say that he had. Shelling was done with this conversation, he'd had enough and it was evident in his tone.

"You will die, Grissom, there is no question about that. The question is," He smiled sadistically. "How much will you suffer before dying. Open your mouth."

When he didn't comply Shelling waved Cronk forward. The body builder stepped behind Gil and grabbed a handful of his hair, again yanking his head back, and with his other hand he forced Gil's bottom jaw open.

"Stick out you tongue." Shelling ordered coldly.

As much as he could Gil curled his tongue to the back of his mouth. He would resist these sadists for all he was worth, even if it wasn't very much.

"Fine." Shelling smiled.

He attached the clip to the soft, sensitive underside of Gil's tongue. Not one metal tooth missed its fleshy mark. Then he gave the clip a hard pinch, holding it for several seconds, letting the teeth dig further into his tongue. Gil screamed in pain and thrashed in their grip. They let him go and he slumped forwards, breathing heavily, gasping for air. Tears that had welled in his eyes now poured down his cheeks and his body gently shook with each, quiet sob.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Shelling sneered. "Never speak without permission."

Shelling stepped back and considered his prisoner for a moment.

"This is how it's going to be." Shelling spoke to him one would speak to a disobedient child. "You will _only_ speak when given permission and when you do speak you will call us sir, and you will _never_ look us in the eye, because you're _garbage_. Do you understand?"

Gil's mumbled response angered Shelling and he again grabbed Gil's hair and yanked his head back, causing Gil to cringe and intensifying his headache.

"I asked you a question!" He growled.

"Yes, sir." Was Gil's painfully slurred reply.

"You're going to suffer, Grissom. Slow and painfully. Just as my brother suffered."

He let go of Gil's hair and they exited the room, shutting the door behind them.

Gil rested his head back releasing some of the pressure from his hurting tongue. This was one injury that would not be relieved by unconsciousness, although he wished it would be. He would have to wait until Shelling decided it was time to remove the clip. If he ever did. He forced his mind to think of other things and his thoughts quickly turned to Sara. He began to sift through his memories of the last eighteen months.

Simple, everyday things were what he loved the most. He cherished his memories of the many times they had made love, but it was the little, everyday things that he no longer had to do alone that warmed his heart the most. Waking up with her nestled in his arms. Having someone to eat breakfast with on a regular basis, not just when they met at the diner. Having a tug of war over the morning paper, only to have her roll it up and bop him on the head with it as she giggled and he pretended to be annoyed. Sharing the events of the day while one washed the dishes and the other dried them and put them back in the cupboard. Going to bed after a long day, especially after a difficult case, and having her there to hold him. All of his troubles seemed to melt away when he nestled into her arms. She would kiss him gently on the forehead and run her fingers through his graying curls, whispering softly to him, telling him it be alright. He wished she could tell him that right now, but he could only sit in his misery and pray that it would soon be over.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Could somebody please tell me when, why and where Grissom got his dog from??? Was it before or after Sara left??? And what is his real name??? Some people say Hank and others say Bruno. I'm so confused! LOL! I hope you liked this last chapter and don't hate me yet:) Please tell me what you think. You guys keep me going:) Peace out. -Esther


	7. Chapter 7

From the Author: (that's me *waves*:) People might get the impression that I hate Grissom after reading this chapter, but for the courts clarification I do not. Grissom is my favorite CSI. (just like he is everyone's, don't deny it you know he's your favorite!) I have always been irritated by the good guys never getting hurt. (especially after Walker Texas Ranger didn't get shot. GRRRRRRRRRR! The bullet that could have ended it all:) So I think something in my mind snapped and I became the demented author of what you are about to read.

I also want everyone to know that, despite the impression that you may get from this story,**I HATE RAPE**. I think that anyone who would force another person, no matter age, race, creed, or sex, into such an unspeakable act should have their whatever's cut off (depending on gender of the offender.) and I mean it with all of the sincerity of my heart.

Also, this story has a message. That, (1) There are consequences for every action we make or take and we will either suffer those consequences or take pleasure in them. (2) When we have done something good and we know that we are in the right, but we suffer because of it anyways, we should not give up. **We can not give up**. If we quit because we have been harmed for doing the right thing than evil prevails in the end. (3) We cannot always go it alone. Sometimes we must depend on the strength of our family and friends to pull us out of the depths.

For some reason this is a story that has been in my mind for a while and needs to be expressed so I hope you understand. I'm not making promises but I have a very strong feeling that this may be my only story that goes this far. Peace out. -Esther

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Warning: This chapter gets very sexually graphic and contains some naughty words. Lock your doors, close you curtains, mothers make your children leave the room. MOONSTARER!!! Get out your flashlight!!!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Seven

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine had burst through the door carrying a police file folder in her hand and an excited expression on her face. She had obviously run to Greg's hospital room and Jim wondered if she had bolted up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.

"Cath, what is it?" Sara asked hurriedly.

"We," She took a deep breath. "Have a lead."

She quickly opened the manila folder and spread its contents on the bedside table for them all to see.

On the very top sat a police photo. Greg looked at the picture of Cronk and began to panic. His chest tightened and it became a struggle to breathe. He couldn't take his eyes away from the ones in the picture. The others looked at him and each of them were sure that he was going to hyperventilate.

Catherine quickly closed the file, hiding the picture. Greg laid back on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut. Sara took his hand and he held it tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Greg, have you seen him before?" Catherine asked after a long moment had passed.

"Not his face." His voice was shaky, like he would burst into tears at any moment. Then he whispered. "His eyes."

Silence filled the room as his three friends exchanged worried looks with each other.

"Was he one of your kidnappers, Greg?" Sara gently inquired.

Greg didn't speak, only nodded his head.

"How did you find this?" Jim asked as he turned to Catherine.

"I figured you would probably be here for a while, so I decided to start running the evidence myself." She explained. "Gil's phone was in Greg's bag of stuff so I dusted it for prints. There were only partials, but it was enough to make a positive match."

"Who is he?" Sara asked, her curiosity peaked once again.

Catherine picked up the folder and opened it.

"His name is Rubin Denalgio." She paused to look at one of the file pages. "He was convicted of murder ten years ago when he killed a man in an illegal, underground street fight."

She looked back up at their waiting faces.

"Gil was the lead CSI on the case. At the sentencing several people heard him yell that he was going to get even with Grissom. He got out four months ago." She closed the folder. "We're checking his most recently known address and any priors and Ecklie put out an APB."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They had offered to stay with him, but Greg had insisted that he would be fine and they should go home and get some sleep. He said that he was tired and they would only sit and watch him sleep anyway, which would creep him out. They said their goodbyes, told him to get well and promised to be back tomorrow.

Jim and Sara sat in the front seat of his car and waved to Catherine as she stood at her front door. She waved in return and shut the door. Jim backed the car out of the driveway and started back down the road.

"You want to go home?" He inquired.

She sighed and looked out the window.

"I really don't want to be alone." She whispered.

He looked at her then back at the road ahead of him. He reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay." Was his soft reply. "Why don't we stop at your place so you can get a few things and you can stay at my house as long as you need. You can have my spare room."

She looked back at him, a tear in her eye. The whole ordeal had been incredibly difficult for her to handle and his loving support and kindness had touched her deeply.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim had chuckled when Sara told him their destination and drove to Gil's townhouse. He guessed he just wasn't used to the idea yet and wondered why not, as it seemed so natural. After arriving, she let them into the house and told Jim to make himself comfortable.

She went down the hallway to the bedroom and pulled a duffel bag out of the closet. She packed several pairs of pants and shirts. Then she packed socks and underwear. After getting what she needed from the bathroom she sat down on her side of the bed.

She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. She looked over at the picture on the night stand. She and Gil were cuddled together in a restaurant booth, happy smiles plastered to their faces. She remembered the pleasant, older waitress that had gladly taken the picture for them. It had been their third and last date. After leaving the restaurant he took her back to her apartment and walked her to her door. He had asked if he could give her a kiss goodnight and she giggled at his politeness and nodded her head. What had started out as an innocent kiss had ended with them making passionate love in her bed. It had been the first of many times for them, but it was the one that she cherished most in her memory.

She picked up the oak framed picture and cradled it on her lap. She ran her finger across his glass encased face and felt the lump forming in her throat again. She looked out the window as tears came again. Jim cleared his throat to announce his presence. She looked back at him then turned back to look out the window.

He walked around the end of the king size bed and sat down beside her. He looked at her for a moment then down at the picture. He gently took it out of her hands and smiled as he studied it closer.

"You're a good looking couple." He commented.

She looked down at the picture and a sad smile formed on her face, only to disappear completely a moment later.

"God, I hope he's still alive." She choked out.

He set the picture down on the bed behind him and grabbed her in a hug. She melted into his embrace and cried until his jacket was soaked with her tears.

As her crying began to subside once again he gently rubbed her back.

"It's okay, kiddo, we'll get through this." He choked back his own tears, he needed to be strong for her. "You're not alone."

He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright. He wanted to tell her that they were going to bring Gil home, safe and sound. He couldn't bring himself to say things that he wasn't sure that he, himself, believed. He thought about Gil and desperately willed him to still be alive.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They had driven to Jim's house and after showing her around he helped her make the spare bed in his guest room.

"So, um." He looked around the small room as if trying to remember what he had wanted to say. "If you need anything, just ask. If you can't find it yourself." Another pause. "And, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You know what they say mi casa, su casa."

He offered her a smile which was returned, even though it was forced.

"Thank you, Jim." She became serious. "For everything."

He walked over to where she stood and stopped in front of her. He cupped her face with his hands and gently kissed her forehead.

"You're like the daughter that I always wanted, Sara."

She was truly touched by the comment and gave him a hug which he happily returned.

"You try to get some sleep, okay?" He smiled as he let her go.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

He hadn't wanted to wake her. He figured that if she was asleep she hadn't been for very long, but he wanted to let her know that he was leaving for work soon and he didn't want to leave her without a vehicle as she had left hers at the lab when they had all rushed off to Moapa Valley. He lightly knocked on the door three times. No answer so he tried again.

"Sara." He said through the door.

"What?"

Her unexpected presence at the end of the hall startled him slightly but he didn't let it show.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"No, I couldn't." She smiled sadly.

"Oh," He wanted to change the subject. "I'm heading into work, but you can stay here if you like. I just didn't want to leave you without a car."

"No, thanks, I'd rather be at the lab."

"Okay." He smiled.

He walked over and motioned to the cereal bowl she was holding.

"What did you find?"

"Oh, um," She looked down at the contents of the bowl. "I found some rock road ice cream in your freezer."

"Ohhh," Jim whined teasingly. "You took the rest of my rocky road?"

She chuckled and held up her hand.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, I'll stop by the store after shift and buy you a new box."

He laughed and shook his head.

"Rotten kids." He mumbled as he walked past her.

She playfully swatted his arm.

He stepped into the kitchen and was grateful to see that she had started a pot of coffee. She sat down at the table and set the bowl in front of her. She poked and prodded at its contents, pushing it around the bowl, before half-heartedly spooning a portion into her mouth.

Jim pulled his travel mug out of the cupboard and set it on the counter next to the coughing coffee pot. He opened the fridge and took the first step in his quest for food.

"What am I going to eat?" He teased and gave her a sideways glance. "Seeing that what I was going to have is gone."

She tried to hide her smile and failed.

He took out the first bowl he saw and pulled off the lid. The green hair that completely covered the top of whatever had previously occupied the bowl made his face twist in a disgusted scowl. He snapped the lid back down and tossed it back into the fridge. He opened two more bowls with similar results and those too were tossed back onto the shelf. With a heavy sigh he gave up his search and closed the door.

"I guess I need to clean out my fridge." He commented wryly.

"Yeah," Again she tried to hide her smile and did a little better this time. "I was admiring your penicillin garden earlier."

He tried to hide his own smile.

"Hardy, har, har." His voice was not without humor.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The ride to the lab had been silent for the most part. It wasn't awkward, just that neither of them felt like speaking. They parted their ways at the front desk and Jim went straight to his office. He sat down behind his desk and rubbed his tired face. He hadn't been able to sleep for more than an hour or two and adding the recent stress on top of that he knew this was going to be a long shift.

He looked up when someone knocked at the door. He saw the short, petite red head standing on the other side of the glass door and motioned for her to come in. She walked through the door and stopped in front of his desk, holding out a small, brown envelope.

"This just came by courier for you, captain."

"Thanks, Judy."

He reached out and took the envelope from her and she abruptly turned and left without saying another word. She wasn't the social type, he quietly thought to himself.

He looked the envelope over. It was a standard envelope with a single, white label on the front. Printed on the label was his name and the address for the lab. Nothing else. He ripped off the end and tipped it upside down. Out fell a small computer disk and typed note. He opened the small piece of paper.

_To Captain Brass and the CSI's of the graveyard shift,_

_This is for your eyes only. -A friend of Grissom._

Jim flipped the small disk over and he truthfully had no idea what it was about. He pulled out his cell phone and sent a text message to Catherine, Sara, Nick and Warrick asking them to meet him in the AV lab right away.

Five minutes later he walked through the sliding glass door of the AV lab and was surprised to see Greg standing there with them.

"Greg, what are you doing here?"

"They released me an hour ago and Cath picked me up." He smiled. "I just wanted to come to the lab and see how things were going."

"So, Brass, what's up?" Nick asked, his voice laced with anticipation.

"Yeah, your text sounded urgent." Catherine added.

Jim looked over their faces then settled on Archie's. The young, Asian man looked at him curiously from under his black mop top.

"Archie, why don't you take a break." Jim said.

"Okay." He replied hesitantly, looking slightly hurt.

Archie walked to the door and was stopped by Jim.

"I'll let you know when we're through."

Archie only nodded and shut the door behind him before going to the break room.

Once the door was shut Jim turned back to the others and pulled the disk and note out of his coat pocket.

"I just got these by courier." He explained."

They each looked at the note in turn and Nick took the disk and inserted it into the computer drive.

"It has a video on it." He said after the data loaded onto the computer.

He clicked the play button on the screen which cued the video to start and they all watched intently.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil had been sitting in his confinement for what had to have been hours. Having no window in the small room and the bright, overhead light on constantly made it impossible for him to know what time of day that it really was. He had managed drift into a restless sleep and when he heard the door opening he startled from his troubled slumber and quickly sat upright, bringing fresh pain to his tongue which made him groan loudly. He desperately hoped that they were not coming back to torture him more, but when he heard the three of them enter his hopes fell and he tried to ready himself for what might come.

Rubin Denalgio stepped in front of Gil, almost straddling his legs. And began running his fingers through Gil's hair. Gil tried to turn away but Denalgio grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back to face forward. His face contorted in pain.

"I like a little fight." His voice was gruff. "It's more challenging that way."

He looked at Bonzo who stood behind Gil and held out his hand.

"Give me the gag and hold his head."

Bonzo passed the object to Denalgio and grabbing two handfuls of Gil's hair he pulled Gil's head back and held him still. Denalgio held it up for Gil to see. It was two leather straps with a fairly large steel ring in the center. Gil tried to struggle but it only increased the pain in his scalp. Denalgio stepped forward so that he now straddled Gil's legs with his bulging groin pressed firmly against Gil's shirtless chest.

Gil looked up at his hate filled eyes and he his whole body began to shake. Denalgio backhanded him hard across the face and forced his jaws apart until Gil thought they would surely dislocate. He removed the clip from Gils tongue and dropped it into his pocket. Then he pushed the ring into Gil's mouth, setting it behind his teeth, and hooked the straps behind Gil's head.

Bonzo unhooked the shackles from the back of the chair and pushed Gil to his knees. Pain surged through his left leg when that knee hit the floor and Gil cried out in pain. Bonzo again grabbed his hair, holding him upright when he almost toppled over.

He suddenly realized what was going to happen and panic flooded over him. He struggled to get back onto his feet but Bonzo's strong hold kept him on his knees. Denalgio unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, releasing his engorged and throbbing member. Gil's eyes widened with terror as Denalgio took the step forward to close the gap and replaced Bonzo's grip on Gil's hair with his own.

"I told you that I would get even with you, Grissom." He said as he turned Gil's face up to look him in the eye.

Gil struggled desperately to close his mouth but it was impossible to do. Denalgio rammed his cock through the ring and into Gil's mouth until his nose was pressed firmly against his belly and the head hit the back of his throat, causing him to gag. Denalgio laughed sadistically.

"You throw up on me, shit head, and you'll be sucking one of these permanently."

Bonzo joined in the laughter, but Shelling stood off to the side and looked eerily calm.

Denalgio, while still maintaining his iron grip on Gil's hair, forced Gil's head back and forth over his cock. Every time he hit Gil in the back of the throat he had to force himself not to gag. Gil squeezed his eyes shut and tried to put himself in a different place. He thought of Sara. He tried to remember what she felt like. What she smelled like. What she tasted like. He desperately tried to remember what she tasted like.

As Denalgio's moans of pleasure filled the small room Gil tried to shut those out too. Now he found himself trying to remember what Sara sounded like. He tried to imagine himself pleasuring her not this sick, twisted fuck who stood before him now, abusing him in ways he had never imagined in his worst nightmares. Silent tears began to course their way down his cheeks as he waited for his abusers climax.

Finally he exploded in Gil's mouth, causing him to gag again and almost lose it this time. He pulled out and let go of Gil's hair. Gil dropped his head and the hot cum, mixed with his own saliva, drooled out of his mouth and onto his chest. He sat back on his heels and tried to catch his breath as the sickening mixture dribbled down over his stomach and pooled on his pants. He wasn't allowed time to recuperate. Bonzo switched places with Denalgio and used Gil in the same, rough manner.

As Gil sat for the second time, letting the excretion dribble from his mouth, Shelling circled around him and came to a stop in front of him. Gil slowly shook his head as he looked down at Shelling's shoes. He desperately wanted to beg him not to do what they had done, but even if he could talk he wouldn't have said anything for fear of them inducing an even worse punishment. He hadn't forgotten their rules. He would resist them but he wouldn't provoke them. As he sat there panting for breath and trying to regain some of his strength Shelling took Gil's chin and lifted his head.

"Look at me." He ordered.

Gil reluctantly lifted his downcast eyes to meet Shelling's. Shelling caressed Gil's face.

"This is just the beginning, Mister Grissom."

He was much more violent than Denalgio or Bonzo. Gil cried out in pain several times only to have what noise he made muffled by Shellings' thrusts. When he finally climaxed he removed the ring gag from Gil's mouth, yanked his head back and forced his mouth shut ,holding it tightly closed.

"Swallow it." He ordered coldly.

With great will power Gil forced the memories of Sara back into his head. He wasn't sure when they had escaped him but he needed them now in order to be able to fulfill what was being demanded of him. He remembered her underneath him as he slid down her body. She willingly parted her legs as he gently parted her soft, beautiful folds. Then the taste of her.

His body shook as that last memory eased into his mind and he relaxed his throat and somewhat easily swallowed every drop that had been squirted into his mouth. Shelling bent down so that his face was a mere inch from Gil's.

"I own you." He growled in a low tone.

Denalgio and Bonzo grabbed Gil's arms and hauled him to his feet. Denalgio held his arms while Bonzo unbuckled Gil's belt and pulled down his pants and boxers. He was pushed face first over the table and Shelling stepped behind him and forced his legs apart.

"Your ass is mine, Grissom!" Shelling yelled with great animosity.

With one, hard thrust he buried his shaft deep inside of Gil and he screamed out at the painful invasion. His inner flesh tore and his own groin was pinched against the edge of the table. With every thrust the pain intensified. Blood trickled down his inner thighs and was soon mixed with Shellings' semen after he climaxed and pulled himself out. The violent action was repeated by Denalgio and then by the Bonzo.

After the third man pulled out of him Gil slid off the table, having no strength left to hold himself up, and crumpled to the floor on his side.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The faces of the detective and the five investigators had gone pale. Tears poured from every eye and they sat in horrified silence. Greg stood between Catherine and Sara and was shaking his head back and forth.

"This is all my fault." He repeated over and over.

The more he said it the more he was convinced it was true and the more the guilt grew in his heart. Catherine looked at him for a stunned moment before carefully embracing him in a hug.

"It's not your fault, Greg." She tried to reassure.

"Yes it is." He sobbed. "I should have been more careful."

Jim couldn't take his eyes off the screen for a very long time and when he finally did he looked to Sara. Tears flooded down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands. He stepped over to her and embraced her in a hug. Together they wailed. For her lover and his brother.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I wouldn't blame if you stopped reading this right now, but I'm pretty sure you'll be satisfied with the end if you finish it. Let me know what you think. Peace out. -Esther


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you to all of my readers who stuck with me through that last chapter. I especially want to thank JellyBeanChiChi, Moonstarer, and Prowriter11. You guys have been so totally awesome and supportive and have given me some good advice and ideas. You guys are the best!

I know it was intense and disturbing. I did not intend for that part of the story to be entertaining and according to your reviews, I met my goal. This chapter contains some pretty violent torture, but I promise no rape.

A few of you have been asking for revenge. One of you even offered to pay me for it. (I do not accept personal checksJ)

My favorite line, I think, are the last two lines of the chapter. "Together they wailed. For her lover and his brother." (I just made a connection! I love this!) The crime in this story is based on a brothers revenge. If a brother can seek revenge, than a brother can seek justice. Just you wait!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Eight

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was the better part of an hour before any of them had calmed down enough to rationalize and speak. It had been sixty minutes of bitter tears and hard sobs. When all had seemed to calm it was Warrick who had the first outburst of anger. He slammed his tightly clenched fist down on the desk top, causing Catherine and Greg to flinch.

"I want those sons of bitches!" He growled through clenched teeth.

Catherine stepped over to him and soothingly rubbed her hand up and down his arm. She wasn't surprised by the tenseness that she felt in him and she pulled him into a strong hug. The stable man who had always presented himself as the strong one melted in her embrace as the dam burst and fresh tears flooded from his eyes.

Nick still sat in front of the computer with his back to the others and was grateful that they couldn't see his tears. He was startled when he felt arms wrap around his shoulders as someone hugged him from behind. He turned his head slightly when Sara rested the side of her tear stained face against the side of his. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hand as he accepted her silent invitation to grieve for his friend and mentor. He tried to hold back but found it impossible when her tear choked voice whispered in his ear.

"It's okay, Nicky. It's okay to cry for him."

Her voice broke, sending him over the edge and she hugged him tighter as his sobs wracked both of their bodies. When she gently rocked him back and forth he raised his other hand and grasped one of her arms as a fresh wave of emotion, one that he had kept bottled up since the beginning, crashed over him like an angry ocean wave.

"It's not fair!" He cried out. "He's one of the good guys!"

"I know." She whispered as she closed her eyes. "I know."

He later marveled at her inner strength. For her to set aside her own grief to help someone else express theirs showed him an inner strength that he only hoped to be able to show to someone else some day.

Jim sat down in a chair and slumped forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the floor between his feet as a second wave of his own grief, triggered by that of the others, overtook him. His tears fell to the floor and he closed his eyes in hopes to quell them. Images of Gil flashed through his mind like a slide show. He began to shake as more and more of them passed. He opened his eyes and looked up to see that the others were beginning to calm down some and he angrily wiped the tears from his face. His determination was renewed and he made a silent vow. He would find Gil and the men- no, the animals that did this to him.

Jim calmed himself back down and reached into his pocket for his cell phone and quickly dialed a number from his directory. It rang three times before it was answered.

"_Ecklie."_

"Yeah, Conrad, it's Jim."

"_What's going on?"_

"I just received a computer disk by courier. It's a video… of Gil."

"_A ransom?" _Ecklie's voice peaked with anticipation.

"No." Was Jim's sad reply. "You need to get in here right away… and please don't tell anyone about this."

Ecklie knew it had to be serious for Jim to want it kept under wraps.

"_Alright, I'll be there in about twenty minutes. I'll meet you in my office."_

"Okay." Was Jim's one word reply.

Not wanting to talk anymore he closed his phone and dropped it into his pocket. He turned back to address the others.

"No one else needs to see or hear about what's on that disk."

They all nodded their infinite agreement.

"Are you going to show it to Ecklie?" Catherine asked.

Jim paused to think and compose his reply.

"He at least needs to know what's on that disk."

Warrick took the disk out of the open drive tray and replaced it in its case. He reluctantly handed it to Jim and when his hand fell back down to his side Catherine took it in her own and squeezed it reassuringly.

"So now what?" Nick asked.

He had finally calmed back down and he and Sara turned back to face the others. Jim thought for a moment before replying.

"Check the surveillance tapes. We need to find the courier who brought this in." He paused for a moment to think. "And someone should go talk to Judy and see what she remembers."

"After I get done with Ecklie somebody is going to have to go back over this video and see what they can find."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Slowly, thoughts began to register. His arms and shoulders ached intensely, but he couldn't move them. He felt a fresh pain on the tender underside of his left arm. He felt the same pain on the under side of his right arm and on his inner thighs. Something was biting him and it fiercely hurt. His eyes slowly fluttered open as it happened again and again and again.

His eyes opened and he found himself looking down at the floor and a pair of black leather shoes. _They look expensive._ He thought. Legs clad in black, high end dress slacks. His eyes continued their slow ascent up the unknown body until he met the eyes of Shelling. He quickly averted his gaze back to the floor but it was too late, the mistake had already been made. Shelling smiled with sick satisfaction as he once again backhanded Gil hard across the already swollen and bruised right side of his face. Gil's head snapped around and he whimpered at the painful contact.

In his left hand Shelling held a bowl, which he held out for Gil to see its contents.

"Look what I have, Grissom."

Gil obediently looked into the bowl. It was filled with roach clips. More than he could count. He groaned at the thought of what Shelling intended to do with them and realized that what was biting his arms and legs were clips that Shelling had already attached to his flesh before he woke. He silently looked back down at the floor.

Other things began to register with him. When everything went black he was on the floor and now he was upright. He looked from one arm to the other and saw that he was shackled to the wall with his arms stretched to the point where felt like he might be torn in half. He then realized that his legs had been given the same treatment. He now stood totally naked and totally exposed. A hot blush creeped over his body and Shellings' amusement at his reaction was evident in his smile.

"I didn't feel like waiting for you to wake up, so, I started without you."

Gil didn't look up. Didn't respond. With the swipe of a hand Shelling hit three of the clips, ripping them off of his right arm where they had been embedded for some time. Gil muffled his cry of pain and tried to twist out of his restraints.

"You know, Grissom," He set the bowl down on the nearby table. "It didn't take long for the other prisoners to find out why my brother was there and it took an even shorter amount of time for him to become the property of his cell mate." The look in his eyes changed from amusement to animosity in a split second. "They don't like men that murder their daughters."

He slowly ran his hand over Gil's chest and down his stomach, resting it on his lower belly. Gil's stomach automatically clenched at the unwanted contact. He began to shake as fear took over. Memories from before he passed out flooded over him and he squeezed his eyes shut against them. His breathing became ragged and fast paced. He silently begged that his hand would go no lower and a renewed blush creeped over his body at the thought of Shelling grasping him. Just when Gil thought that Shelling was going to grab him he removed his hand and took a few steps back. He basked in the knowledge that he was in complete control.

"Are you thirsty, Gilbert?"

The change of attitude startled him and the endearment stung him like a hundred wasps and he cringed. Only Sara and his mother ever called him Gilbert and they were the only ones that he would respond to calling him that. He _was_ thirsty. He didn't remember having a drink of water since leaving the lab and he had no idea how long ago that had been. He knew he was becoming dehydrated. His mouth felt like cotton and he noted the slight headache and nausea that had been with him since he had woken, but he had never had to seriously beg for anything in his life and just the thought of having to truly beg for a drink of water felt degrading and embarrassing.

"Yes, sir." He said quietly and hung his head as low as it would go.

Shelling hadn't missed Gil's cringe at the use of his appropriate name and picked up a bottle of water from the table.

"Would you like a drink of water, Gilbert?"

Gil didn't answer right away. He needed to keep himself calm. If he got too emotional Shelling would have him.

"Look at me, Gilbert." His voice remained gentle.

Gil forced himself to raise his eyes. He was beginning to hate himself for always obeying Shelling, but the thought of what might happen if he didn't obey scared him.

"Would you like a drink of water, Gilbert?" He repeated his question.

He saw only compassion in the other mans eyes as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle and lifted it for Gil to see. Gil knew it was false compassion, but he also knew that he was losing his battle. He thought that he could resist them without putting up a fight. He had been determined that he would not yield to them, that he would not give in to them, but his body cried out for water and he desperately wanted a drink. He now realized that he was going to have to put himself at the lowest point he'd ever been.

"Yes, sir." He whispered timidly.

"I can't hear you, Gilbert. Speak up." His voice held its tender tone.

"Yes, sir." This time he spoke at a reasonable volume and made sure he was clear.

"Ah, that's better." Shelling looked pleased. "Yes, sir, what?"

Gil's face burned with embarrassment.

"May I… please…" It was taking all the courage that he had left to ask this question.

Shelling watched him struggle with an amused smile.

"May I please… have some water?" Tears of humiliation stung his eyes.

Gil couldn't look at him he felt so ashamed for reducing himself to begging.

"Of course you may, Gilbert."

Shelling seemed happy to oblige him and as he held the bottle up to Gil's lips he did so, gently, as he would a small child. The cool water washed over his parched lips and tongue and slid easily down his throat, but after two sips he stopped drinking and pulled his head back. The water tasted normal but he decided not want to take the chance that there could be something in it.

"Thank you, sir."

For a split second anger flashed across Shelling's face and if Gil hadn't immediately looked down at the floor he would have caught it and been more aware of what Shelling's reaction would have been. Shelling clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"Are you sure you don't want more, Gilbert?" He was careful to maintain the kindness in his voice.

"No, thank you, sir."

He would not be defied like this. He was determined to be in complete control of the pitiful man before him and he would not be deterred. He grasped one of the clips under Gil's left arm and squeezed it hard. Gil writhed at the fresh pain, but couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried. As Shelling squeezed the clip he slowly pulled it down, increasing Gil's agony. Then, with a quick tug, he ripped the clip from Gil's arm and a small chunk of flesh with it. Gil threw his head back and his scream escaped his lips. Shelling's face was solemn but a slight twitch of his jaw as it clenched gave away his true feeling.

"Would you like more to drink, Gilbert?" His voice maintained its kindness.

Gil shifted his head back down and closed his eyes in an attempt to calm the pain.

"Answer me, Gilbert." He pushed.

"No, thank you, sir." Gil's voice sounded a little shaky in his own ear.

Shelling didn't speak, but the second response to his request increased his agitation. He reached down and grabbed one of the clips attached to the inside of Gil's right thigh. He repeated his action. Squeezing the clip and slowly pulling it away from his body. Again Gil writhed in pain, but this time Shelling didn't rip it off right away. He let it linger a little longer. The pain was intense and Gil tried to force his mind to think about something else.

_Z…Y…X…W… _He concentrated on repeating the alphabet backwards in his mind.

Shelling ripped off the clip and again Gil screamed at the agony that was in his leg this time. Shelling held up the water bottle for Gil to see.

"Would you like another drink of water, Gilbert?"

Gil struggled to calm his labored breathing and when he had he responded.

"No, thank you, sir."

Gil knew that he was being defiant but he was still determined not to give in to them.

_V…U…T…S… _Shelling grabbed two clips at the same time and proceeded with his ministrations of pain.

The increased agony decreased Gil's ability to think clearly.

_R…P… No, not P…Q, I think._

Shelling ripped off the clips, spiraling Gil into agony.

After Shelling had ripped all forty clips from Gils arms and legs Gil still hadn't given in. Blood now oozed from his underarms and inner thighs. Slowly it trickling down his armpits and sides and down the insides of his legs. Shelling could barely contain his anger and knew that it was the cause of his shaking body. He roughly grabbed Gil's hair and yanked his head back up. Gil groaned at the new pain in his scalp.

"I have more clips, Gilbert." His voice had changed from kind to threatening as he began to lose his cool. "We can start all over from the beginning if you like."

Gil struggled to hold back his tears. He wanted to keep up his resistance, but he just couldn't take any more pain. The last of his reserve was slipping out of his grasp as he looked from Shelling… to the bowl of clips… to the bottle of water. As he slowly panted for air his heart sank and a tear fell from his eye.

"Please, sir." His voice was hoarse from screaming. "No more pain."

"What's that?" Shelling was slightly shocked by what he heard. "What did you say, Gilbert?"

Please, sir." Gil begged as more tears of defeat rolled down his face. "I can't take anymore pain."

Shelling's smile was one of victory and Gil knew it.

"Would you like some more water, Gilbert?" Shelling asked with a thick, arrogant tone.

"Yes…please."

"Yes, please, what?"

"May I please have some more water?"

Still maintaining his iron grip on Gil's hair he forced his head back and ordered him to open his mouth. Gil fully complied. Shelling push the mouth of the bottle past Gil's lips, knocking it painfully against his front teeth. Gil gulped the water down as Shelling didn't hold back from pouring it into Gil's mouth. As it came to the last few swallows Gil choked and Shelling let go of his hair and Gil leaned forward and was wracked by a violent coughing fit. Shelling just stepped back and watched. When the coughing finally subsided Gil let his head drop as fresh tears of shame fell from his eyes.

Shelling walked back over to the table and set down the empty bottle.

"Do you know what his cell mate did to my brother when he had failed to please him?" He asked after a long silence.

"No, sir." Gil answered reluctantly.

"He took him to a secluded area and beat him with a homemade whip."

Gil's body tensed and it became more of a struggle to breathe. He almost repeated his first mistake by looking up at Shelling but caught himself and looked back down at the floor. Shelling turned to look at him. Gil's fear was evident and it pleased him.

"Don't worry, Gilbert, I would use nothing but the best on the _great Gilbert Grissom."_

The change from hateful, to compassionate, then back to hateful again shocked Gil. Shelling reached back behind himself and pulled a six foot bullwhip off the table that he was now leaning against. He uncoiled it, letting the end drop to the floor. He quickly brought it up and snapped it down on the concrete. The loud, resounding crack made Gil's body involuntarily jerk.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Conrad Ecklie set the waste basket back down on the floor and tried not to look at its contents which had previously occupied his stomach. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth. He had started to watch the video, but didn't quite get past the first round with Denalgio before his stomach decided it was enough.

Jim stood at the office door, looking out into the hall. He had silently refused to watch the video again, but as it played every sound coming from the laptops small speaker reissued the images in his mind.

"Who else has seen this?" Conrad asked when he was finally able to speak.

"Just Gil's team."

There was a long pause as Conrad took in this new information and thought it over.

"How are they holding up?"

"As well as can be expected." Jim said as he finally turned to face the other man.

"And you?" Conrad looked him in the eye.

It took Jim a long moment to answer as the lump in his throat choked out his voice.

"I'm okay." Jim nodded.

Conrad didn't miss the unusual thickness in his voice or the mist in his eyes. He looked away, saving Jim from any embarrassment he might have felt.

"Bring me up to date on our leads." Conrad requested.

Jim took a few steps forward before replying.

"Right now our only suspect is Rubin Denalgio. His finger prints were lifted off of Gil's phone which we found at the scene in Moapa Valley."

"What's his connection to Gil?" Conrad looked at him again.

"Ten years ago he was convicted of murder when he killed a man in an illegal, underground street fight." Jim took a breath. "At the sentencing several people heard him _yell_ that he was going to get even with Gil." Another pause. "He was let out of prison four months ago."

Conrad nodded his head as he remembered Catherine telling him all of this earlier that morning.

"When Greg saw the picture of Denalgio," Jim continued. "He almost lost it."

"He recognized him?" Conrad looked hopeful.

"Not his face, he said they were all wearing ski masks." Even Jim felt a _little_ more hopeful. "He recognized Denalgio's eyes. I mean the poor kid almost hyperventilated when he saw the picture."

"What about the get away vehicle?" Conrad asked after a beat.

"Standard, black Chevy van. Greg said there were no plates."

Conrad nodded as he mulled over the information.

"Right now Warrick and Nick are going over the surveillance tapes to find our courier and Catherine and Sara are interviewing Judy because she's the one that talked to the courier. Then they're going to analyze that disk."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They all met in the conference room an hour later as they had decided.

"Alright, what did you guys get?" Catherine asked Warrick and Nick.

They both wore hopeful looks on their faces.

"We found the courier on the surveillance tapes." Nick said as he slid a picture across the table for them to see.

"And he's one of the three guys in the video." Warrick continued as he slid another picture across the table top.

The others looked up at them in surprise before turning back to study the pictures.

"That's the guy from Judy's description." Sara confirmed.

"Something doesn't make sense." Catherine looked confused.

"What?" Sara returned to searching the pictures hoping to see what Catherine saw.

"These guys have been pretty careful so far."

"Yeah?" Greg encouraged.

"They obviously don't want to be caught, so why would they video tape themselves assaulting Grissom like that… and not at least wear masks?"

They all sat in thoughtful silence.

"What if they didn't know they were being recorded?" Sara asked.

"That kid on the surveillance tape looked pretty cocky." Warrick added.

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "He waved at the camera before he left."

"He was taunting us." Catherine realized and it dawned on the others as well.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Crack!

Gil's body arched involuntarily as the hard strip of leather connected with the tender flesh on his back and opened a laceration across the width of his body. He muffled his groan of pain through his clenched teeth as fresh blood began to ooze from the wound.

Shelling sat in front of him on the other side of the room. On the table next to him sat a stereo, the notes of Vivaldi sounding through the speakers.

Crack!

Again Gil arched in reaction to the pain. His groans were becoming more like cries with each strike of the whip. This time the whip wrapped around his right side, bringing the laceration around to that side of his chest.

Gil slumped forward as far as his chains would allow and panted for air. He had to maintain some control or he was going to lose it. The pain was going to drive him insane if he didn't get his mind off of it.

_Carterocephalus Palaemon. _He thought to himself. _The arctic skipper._

A picture of the brown and orange butterfly popped into his head with the announcement of its name.

Crack!

The whip wrapped around to his stomach causing him to arch and twist at the same time.

_Erynnis Persius. The Persius Dusky-Wing. _The brown and grey butterfly appeared with its furry body.

Crack!

It wrapped around his chest again, opening a third laceration and he lost his train of thought. The butterflies had left him to suffer. He would just have to concentrate on something else.

Crack!

He screamed out at the pain of the contact.

_Scaphoid. Lunate. Triquetrum. _He started to label the bones of the human hand.

Crack!

Those left too. He couldn't gather his thoughts through the haze of pain. He slumped forward only to be thrown into another arch.

Crack!

They were not pleasant thoughts. They were neutral. He needed pleasant thoughts. He thought of Sara. He closed his eyes and imagined her standing before him.

Crack!

His scream was louder and longer lasting this time. He heard Denalgio laugh from where he stood behind him. He thought of taking Sara in his arms. Pressing soft kisses along her neck. She would run her fingers through his hair, messaging his scalp like only she knew how.

Denalgio paused to take a drink of water and admire the work he'd done on Gil's back so far. He walked around Gil, ducking under the chain that stretched his left arm, and came to stand in front of him. He smiled sadistically as he roughly ran the butt of the bull whip handle over each of the five to seven inch lacerations, the two on his chest and the one on his stomach.

Gil's fists clenched again, so tight that it caused his arms to start shaking. He clenched his teeth and his breaths came out as grunts as he tried to fight the object that dug painfully into his wounds. Denalgio finished torturing all three lacerations and his smile turned to a cold sneer as he dropped the whip back down to his side.

Gil's body slumped again and his head dropped down. His breathing was heavy and labored. He barely had any strength left in his legs and his entire weight was supported by his arms. The tension it caused in his chest made it difficult for him to get air. Denalgio put the butt of the whip handle under Gil's chin and lifted his head. Gil cringed at the pressure and kept his eyes downcast. Denalgio laughed at the pitiful sight before him. Gil's eyes were bloodshot and dark. His once bright baby blues were now dull and glazed and his skin was a sickly pallor.

As Denalgio turned to look over at Shelling, something in the doorway caught his attention and he let Gil's head drop.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" He demanded as he stormed over to the doorway.

Bonzo stood in the doorway holding a portable video camera. He'd had it aimed at Gil, recording his suffering. Shelling joined Denalgio at the door and snatched the camera out of Bonzo's hands.

"You stupid little shit!" Shelling degraded him. "We don't leave behind incriminating evidence. What if the cops got their hands on this?"

Denalgio back handed the younger man, knocking him out of the doorway and onto the seat of his pants.

The moment of being stunned passed quickly and the young red head jumped back onto his feet.

"Fuck you!" He yelled at Denalgio who wasn't phased in the least. "I don't need this shit! I'm outta here!"

He stormed off down the hall and disappeared into the makeshift office only to reemerge seconds later with his coat, but not before swiping something off the desk that he was not supposed to have. Though perhaps it was meant for him to carry it. They watched him storm out of the building and seconds later heard screeching tires as he peeled out of the parking lot.

Denalgio became enraged and grabbed the video camera out of Shellings hand and threw it against the wall, breaking it into dozens of pieces. He stormed back over to stand behind Gil. He drew back his arm and released a vicious torrent of whippings across Gil's back. Gil's body, given its limited range of motion, twisted in agony. He could not contain himself any longer and each strike of the whip intensified his screams of pain. The shackles cut his wrists and ankles and the excessive thrashing increased the fracture in his left knee. Warm, sticky blood began to dribble down his legs and then he was granted mercy. Just as darkness overcame him, Shelling said stop.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: That was a little intense. Don't make me say itJ I shouldn't have to by nowJ


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here you go, we're that much closer to what you all have been waiting for.

Warning: This chapter contains no actual rape, but comes pretty damn close and strongly hints at it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Nine

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"That's enough, Rubin." Shelling said firmly.

"I'll say when it's enough!" Denalgio yelled in return.

He brought is arm back, ready to lash Gil again with the bull whip.

"Denalgio! Fifteen lashes are enough for now!"

Shelling stormed over to Denalgio and grabbed the whip out of his hand.

"There's no point," Shelling tried to calm his voice and regain control of the situation. "If he can't feel the pain. Wait until he wakes up."

Shelling turned to walk away but not before issuing another order.

"Let him down."

"What?!"

"We don't want him suffocating either." Shelling explained. "Let him down."

Denalgio hesitated, but unlocked Gil's wrist shackles, dropping him face first onto the concrete floor. The right side of his face connected with the hard surface first with a muffled thud. Shelling had walked out of the room and before Denalgio followed he spit on Gil's lifeless form.

Shelling and Denalgio walked the short distance to the office and entered through the still open door.

"Don't you think you should go after him?" Shelling asked as he sat behind the desk.

"Who, Mikey?" Denalgio had momentarily forgotten the earlier outburst.

"Yeah." Shelling was becoming exasperated.

"Nah, that kid's a pussy. He runs off crying but he'll come crawling back, begging me to take him. He was the same way in prison."

Denalgio sat down across from Shelling and propped his feet up on the desk. Shelling only nodded. He had seen how Denalgio treated the younger man and Michael O'Tool was definitely his bitch.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The lights of Las Vegas glittered in his tear soaked eyes as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took another swig of the brew.

"Assholes." He mumbled as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "What gives them the right to fuck with me. No one fucks with Michael O'Tool."

In his mind he knew it was a lie. He had been Rubin Denalgio's bitch in prison and he was Rubin's bitch in life.

Memories of his first night in prison flashed in his mind. Rubin had gagged him and taken him hard in the ass. He squirmed in the drivers seat at the memory. That first night had been to announce his control over the eighteen year old Micheal. Every night after that had been to cement it. Which he had done so effectively in the young, impressionable man. He had to get his tray when the were taken for meals. He had to take Rubin's dirty clothes to the laundry. He had to wash Rubin in the shower.

It hadn't been without its perks though. Rubin had protected him from other thugs who would have been much worse. He had taught him to be tough. He had taught him to take it like a man. For the past five years he'd had Rubin to tell him who he was and that hadn't changed now that he was back in the free man's world. On the other hand he was a free man now. He was wasn't he?

"Of course I am!" He yelled angrily.

He downed the remainder of the beer and tossed the empty onto the floor board of the passengers side with the other five. He didn't notice that he had drifted over the yellow line.

You're not free. He thought bitterly. You're Rubin's bitch. For life.

He reached into the back seat and grabbed the other six pack he had bought at the small convenience store just outside of Vegas. He silently cursed himself for not putting it in the seat beside him but rather behind him, but what did he expect, Rubin was always telling him how stupid he was and how he wasn't smart enough to think for himself. He supposed Rubin was right. His history of bad decision making was proof enough. As he had reached for the six pack he had twitched the wheel, causing the car drift back across his lane and now it drifted over the white line and into the breakdown lane. As he turned in his seat to face forward again he saw his navigational error and twitched the wheel to bring him back into his lane proper.

As he opened a new bottle and brought it to his lips his car was filled with flashing blue lights.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim's feet couldn't carry him fast enough as he ran to the break room where the others gathered in their wait for news. They had been relieved when Conrad had approached them after meeting with Jim and told them that he didn't expect them to work any other cases until they found Gil. They noted that he had looked rather pale and sickly then he quickly went back to his office.

Jim burst through the door, panting for air. The others looked at him with surprised curiosity.

"We got him!" He blurted out.

They were all on their feet and rushing towards him.

"They found Gil?" Sara asked excitedly and the others looked at him in anticipation.

"No, they picked up the guy that gave us the disc."

They traveled to the police department and followed him to interrogation room one. They looked through the window at the young man with the spiked red and green hair. He sat behind the silver topped, metal table, drumming his fingers on the stainless steel surface.

"How'd they find him?" Catherine asked.

They all turned to Jim to hear his explanation.

"Two officers pulled him over on a suspected DUI. After confirming his blood alcohol level they pulled him out of the car and searched him. They found this in his pocket."

He held up an evidence bag containing Gil's lab identification badge.

"The officers called me immediately and brought him here."

They all looked back through the window and Warrick started for the door. Jim stepped in front of him, cutting him off from his goal.

"Get out of my way, Jim." His tone was low and threatening.

"You're not going in there, Rick." He warned.

"You're not in charge of this investigation." He almost yelled. "We're all in this together."

"Yeah, but Gil would be very disappointed if you lost your badge." He replied calmly.

Warrick stopped as he was taken aback. He realized that Jim was trying to protect him.

"Are you saying that you have that much more control, Jim?" Catherine gently asked.

"No, but thirty years is pretty close to retirement."

Conrad walked up behind them and addressed Jim.

"Your page sounded urgent."

"Yeah, we got the guy who gave us the disc."

Jim pointed through the window and Conrad followed his direction. When he saw the smug, young man sitting behind the table his face began to redden and he clenched his jaw.

"Let's do this." He said to Jim.

Jim and Conrad sat next to each other on the opposite side of the table as Michael O'Tool. They looked at him for a long moment before Jim finally spoke.

"Where did you get this?" He asked as he held up Gil's badge.

"Found it on a dead man." Came his cocky reply.

Jim tried not to give any signs of his increasing frustration and anger.

"Did you think you were smart, giving me that disc?"

"I thought it was a pretty funny joke." He stated smugly.

"We didn't think it was very funny." Conrad interjected.

"What's the matter?" Michael looked between the two men. "He a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact he is." Jim replied evenly.

He was surprised that he had been able to keep his calm, but he wasn't sure how long it would last.

"Where is he?"

"So, what is he?" Michael looked Jim in the eye, ignoring his question. "He your boy friend?"

His ability to stay calm against this punks arrogance was slowly slipping away and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back much longer.

"Where is he?" Jim asked again.

Jim's breathing was becoming labored and the investigators who stood behind the two way mirror took notice of the tension building in his shoulders.

"I'll tell you one thing about him."

Michael leaned forward, propping himself on the table top as he squarely looked Jim in the eye. The smile that played across his lips increased Jim's agitation and Conrad, sensing the emotions emanating from the other man, subconsciously edged a little further away in his seat.

"He gives some really, sweet head." He closed his eyes for effect. "And his ass is oh… so… tight."

No one was sure if Jim had launched himself over the table, causing it to flip over, or if he had thrown it to get it out of his way. It had happened too fast. The next thing that anyone knew was that Jim had Michael pinned against the wall, his fist connecting hard with the hot shots mouth. One of his front teeth snapped in half, breaking Jim's knuckle and causing him to bleed, and blood oozed from his busted lip. The look of pure terror on the younger man's face was no surprise to anyone when they saw the pure rage on Jim's.

"Y-y-you can't do that, m-man." He whimpered fearfully. "Cops g-got r-rules."

"You think anyone's gonna care if I grease a piece of shit like you?!" Jim roared.

Jim was furious and didn't care if he had crossed the line. He didn't care that Ecklie sat there and watched everything and would have him fired when it was over. Michael looked down, hopefully, at the gold badge hanging from Jim's front, coat pocket and then back up at Jim.

"You think this is gonna hold me back?!" Jim pointed to his badge.

He ripped the badge off of his pocket and tossed it back over his shoulder. Conrad still sat in his chair, shocked by Jim's actions. The badge landed in his lap, startling him out of his stoic state.

"I'm not going to let my career stand in the way of saving my friend. I'll even go to prison for beating the piss out of you if I have to!"

He pulled Michael away from the wall and slammed his body back against it.

"Where the hell is he?!" He yelled.

"Benedict warehouse district." Michael yelped.

"Where is it?!" Again Jim slammed him against the wall.

"It's on the other side of Moapa Town." He replied hurriedly.

Jim released his grip and called in the officer from the hall. In walked the tall, burly man with the black bushy mustache.

"Mitts, get him out of here."

The officer obeyed the order and slapped the steel cuffs on Michaels wrists.

Jim hurried out of the door, followed closely by Conrad, and met the investigators as they hurried out of the observation room. As they all hurried to the front door of the station Jim turned on his heel and looked at Greg.

"Sanders, you stay here." He ordered.

"No freakin' way."

Greg tried to push past him and Jim put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

"Greg," He spoke softly. "We don't know what we'll find out there and if the shit hits the fan you're in no position to be in a fight."

Greg was about to protest when Sara stepped forward.

"Greg, I promise that I will call you immediately if we find him."

Greg reluctantly agreed and they headed for their vehicles.

Catherine and Sara climbed into Jim's car and Warrick hopped into Nick's truck. Conrad had just connected with dispatch when he climbed behind the wheel of his Mercedes. Red and blue flashing lights pierced the dark of early morning as they sped down I-15. Jim led the convoy, followed by Nick, then Conrad, then three squad cars, the swat van and an ambulance. Jim gripped the steering wheel until he was sure that his prints would be indented into its surface. He silently prayed to God that Gil was there and more importantly that he was still alive and pressed his foot down on the accelerator, topping eighty-five.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"I have to go to Vegas." Shelling announced. "I have some business to attend to."

He stood up and reached for the dress coat that he had draped over the back of his chair. Denalgio looked at him and smirked.

"You know," He took a swig from his beer bottle. "If it's a lay you're looking for, that's why the old man's still here."

"Not all of us dwell on sex, Rubin." He pulled on his coat and adjusted the cuffs. "What will you do when Mister Grissom is dead?"

"I'll go back to fucking that little skank O'Tool." His statement was nonchalant and as-a-matter-of-fact.

Shelling just shook his head and walked out of the office. He crossed the short distance to the front door and stepped into the cool, Nevada morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the distant hills and he smiled as he stood for a moment to admire its beauty. When he was done with his admiration he climbed into the drivers seat of his luxury sedan and drove towards the city.

As he left the outskirts of the small town his brow creased as he saw the flashing lights in the distance. He didn't slow down as he passed the procession of cop cars, a swat van and an ambulance. Once he passed them he released his rage on the inside of his vehicle and accelerated towards Vegas.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The thought of a good lay made Denalgio's cock twitch and he rubbed it through his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at the door and made his decision. He set his beer bottle down on the desk and walked across the hall to the utility room. He picked up the two gallon metal pail and put it in the sink, filling it with ice cold water from the tap.

He walked to the room where Gil still lay, unconscious and bloody, on the floor. He walked through the open door and his sadistic smile returned when he saw the lifeless form face down on the cold, grey surface. He stood over Gil and slowly poured the two gallons of ice water over his tortured back. He laughed at Gil's surprised cry as he was ripped back to consciousness and squirmed under the cascading water fall. When the bucket was empty he tossed it aside where it hit the floor with a resounding clang. He unlocked the shackles from Gil's ankles and pulled him to his feet. With quite a bit of rough coaxing, which included several slaps to his battered face, he forced Gil to stand upright.

"You've had a couple of hours of rest," He mocked. "Now it's time to return you to your purpose."

Denalgio closed the gap between them and rubbed himself against Gil's crotch. Realization forced its way through the haze in Gil's mind and he reluctantly shook his head as tears formed in his eyes.

"Please," He whispered, his voice shaky and pleading. "Please don't rape me again."

Denalgio threw him against the wall, the back of his head connecting hard with the concrete.

He blacked out momentarily and pain shot through his skull. Instinctively he grabbed Denalgio's shoulders. Not to push him away but to keep himself upright. Denalgio wrapped a big hand around Gil's throat and slammed his head against the wall again then delivered two punches to Gil's broken ribs. A cry of pain barely escaped Gil's throat and darkness had encroached again until he received the painful blows to his side.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Denalgio yelled.

Gil obediently dropped his arms to his sides and Denalgio relaxed his grip on Gil's throat.

Gil's head swam as he was overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness. He wasn't sure if it was because his head had been slammed against the wall or because he knew what was about to come next. Denalgio's face was almost touching Gil's as he spoke and Gil kept his eyes down watching his moving lips.

"As for the fucking… you don't want to disobey me do you?"

"No, sir." Gil whispered.

Denalgio reached down and grabbed Gil's shaft, giving it a hard squeeze. Gil whimpered and Denalgio grabbed him by his curly locks and pulled him over to the table.

Denalgio pushed him face first over the wooden table top and Gil grabbed the edge when Denalgio slapped him hard on the ass. The whipping lacerations on his chest and stomach and the broken ribs from his first beating screamed out in pain. The numbness offered by the ice water on his back had quickly faded when he was thrown against the wall and the concrete scraped against the lacerations. Gil tensed as he heard Denalgio unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

Gil felt a renewed sense of humiliation as he realized that this time he was a willing participant. He wasn't restrained this time and he hadn't put up a fight. Truth be told he was scared to put up a fight, scared to receive a worse punishment. He knew he was going to die, Shelling had already decided that. Now he just hoped that if he stopped fighting them, if he obeyed and did what they wanted, they would hurry up and end it. Fresh tears of degradation reached his eyes and rained down on the table's surface as Denalgio roughly parted his cheeks and pushed a thumb inside. Lost in the moment neither Denalgio or Gil heard the noise from down the hall.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

There had been too many buildings to cover so they decided to break into teams. Jim, Nick and Sara entered one of the buildings on the back side of the lot. On the outside it appeared to be to same as all the others. Grey sheet metal siding. A regular door with a window in it and beside that a large door for the docking bay inside. Jim looked through the window and when he was satisfied that there was no one visible he carefully opened the door. All three had their weapons drawn and Sara followed Jim and Nick followed Sara. They noted the black, Chevy van that had been the get away car and Nick lifted the radio to his lips, informing the rest of the team of their findings.

"Las Vegas Police." Jim called out.

There was no reply. They made their way across the bay and to the short hallway on the other side of the room.

"Get you fucking hands off me!" A voice yelled from the room at the end of the hall.

They all froze and instinctively threw themselves back against the wall. Jim looked back at them and they both nodded to continue.

As Jim came closer to the door, being careful to check the two rooms before it, he saw something that horrified him. Gil was bent over the table against the wall and a man that he recognized only from the video was grabbing his ass. Infuriated, Jim ran into the room and was followed closely by Sara and Nick.

"Las Vegas police!" He yelled.

Denalgio's head snapped up and he immediately recovered from his surprise. In a flash he pulled the nine millimeter hand gun out of the back of his pants and brought it up level with Jim's face. Two shots rang out in the small room. Then there was silence.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Do you think Jim will make it??? Or will he die saving his best friend??? By the way, did I tell you that I'm going on a two week vacation to the mountains and I'm leaving tomorrow. It kind of sucks that I won't have access to a computer, but I'm sure you guys won't mind waiting 'til I get back.

Just kiddingJ If your past reviews have anything to say I'm pretty sure that I would get some death threats if I did thatJ

I think I'll start using Ellie's answering machine message.

"Hey this is Esther, you know what to do."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Wow. Look what you guys are doing to me. If I have to type much faster I think my fingers will break offJ Then where will you be, huh? Keep sending me reviews, look what they're doing. Another chapter already.

You guys have been begging for some twisted revenge . One person, you know who you are, wants me to have his balls crushed liked overripe grapes. This comes pretty damn close, so I hope you are all satisfied.

I have to throw out a big thank you to JellyBeanChiChi! She has been so awesome with helping me edit some of my scenes!!! And Misanthropee too. You make me laugh!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Ten

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim burst through the open door with his weapon raised.

"Las Vegas police!" He yelled, announcing their arrival.

Denalgio's head snapped up but the element of surprise was gone in an instant. He reached into the waist band of the back of his pants with practiced ease and speed. He raised the black, nine millimeter, bringing it level with Jim's face. Jim didn't hesitate. He squeezed the trigger and only his eyes flinched when the round exploded from the other end of the barrel in a flash of fire, blowing a neat, quarter sized hole in the center of Denalgio's forehead. An instant after blood splattered and bone shattered on Denalgio's face Sara fired her weapon from where she stood in the door. The second bullet struck the dead mans groin and his ready cock exploded.

He fell to the floor with a muffled thud and Jim rushed over to secure his weapon. He was sure that the bastard was dead but decided not to take the chance and pressed two fingers against the side of his neck. He was relieved when he felt nothing and cringed when his eyes were caught by the bloody mess between the mans legs. He pushed all other thoughts aside and stepped over to the table.

Sara and Nick rushed over to Gil's shaking form. He was still stretched face first over the table top, gripping the edge for all he was worth. Sara leaned down close to his ear.

"Gil." A tear came to her eye when he flinched at the sound of her voice. "Gil, baby, it's okay. You're safe now. We're here."

She gently peeled the fingers of his right hand off the edge of the table and Jim repeated the action with the fingers of his left hand.

Jim and Nick lifted his dead weight off the table and as they lowered him to the floor Sara sat down and took his upper body onto her lap. They had eased him onto his left side and she cradled his head and shoulders, holding him close to her chest. She didn't try to stop her tears as he slowly raised his face and looked at her with his broken, blue eyes.

"Sara?"

The word was spoken in a weak, broken voice and disbelief coated his question.

"Yeah, baby." She whispered. "It's me."

His eyes closed and his body went limp in her arms. She fearfully pressed two fingers to his neck. She felt nothing. She quickly adjusted her fingers. Then she felt it. Although it was faint and erratic his pulse was there.

Jim took off his coat and laid it over Gil, covering his nakedness. He knew it wouldn't do much good for when the paramedics arrived they would remove his coat, but he hoped that in some small way it might return his damaged friend some of his dignity. He knelt down next to Sara and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against his and he gently kissed her forehead.

Nick left the room to compose himself. He leaned against the wall as relief flooded over him and tears rushed like a raging river from his eyes. He allowed himself a minute to release and then quickly recomposed himself. After wiping his eyes and sniffling a few times he raised the radio to his lips.

"We got him, I repeat, we found CSI Grissom and he's alive." He closed his eyes as fresh tears threatened to choke him again. "We are in the back, East building. Number nineteen. We need paramedics STAT."

He went back into the room long enough to see how Gil was doing then went to the front of the building to wait outside for the others and show them to the room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine and Warrick had been searching warehouse number twenty and ran outside when they heard Nick's call. They ran over to the building and saw Nick standing impatiently in front of the door. His eyes were red from crying and he pointed them in the direction of the room.

They ran the short distance down the hall and rushed through the doorway. The first thing that registered was Jim and Sara huddled together on the floor with Gil lying across her lap. Neither of them could hold their tears as they began to notice other things in the room. Bloody shackles dangling from the wall and laying on the floor. The bloodied bull whip snaking along the concrete surface. The blood stains on the floor between the shackles and on the wall where Gil had been thrown back against it. They quickly got out of the way when the paramedics came hustling through the door.

They removed Jim's jacket and both of them tried to hide their blush at the older man's nakedness. Nick had let the officers clear the building but he only let the paramedics into the room until they had covered Gil in a blanket and strapped him to the stretcher. They all followed the paramedics back outside and Sara and Jim ran alongside the stretcher. She didn't let go of his hand until they lifted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance and then she climbed in behind them. Jim climbed onto the bench beside her and before they closed the doors he tossed his keys to Catherine.

Upon arriving at the hospital Jim and Sara were stopped at the doors to the emergency room and refused entry. They reluctantly and dejectedly turned away and went over to the reception desk. Jim helped her fill out the necessary paper work and then they trudged to the waiting room and sat down on the same couch that they had when they had waited for Greg the day before.

He took one of her shaking hands and held it tight. Just as much to ease his nerves as hers. Twenty minutes later Nick and Warrick came rushing into the waiting room.

"Any word yet?" Nick asked eagerly.

"No, they just took him in a little while ago." Jim said.

"Oh… right." Nick's shoulders slumped.

He sat down next to Sara and Warrick sat down in the chair that kitty-cornered Jim's end of the couch. As if realizing someone was missing Sara lifted her head and looked around.

"Where's Cath?"

"She took Jim's car to the lab to pick up Greg." Warrick explained.

"Oh." She nodded.

She hadn't seen Jim toss Catherine his keys, but it made sense when she thought about it. A short time later Catherine and Greg joined them in their wait.

"Any word?" Catherine asked as she sat down next to Warrick.

Jim silently shook his head.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was nearing hour six of their wait and Sara was sure that the nurses were becoming annoyed with her hourly checks. She was becoming increasingly worried and frustrated by their refusal to give her any information.

"Can I get you anything?" Nick asked.

She sadly smiled and shook her head. They had all taken their turns pacing the floor, making coffee runs and going to the vending machines, but she was sure she would go through the roof like a rocket if she had one more cup of coffee.

"What is taking them so long?"

She plopped back down on the couch next to Jim who had just started to nod off.

"I don't know." He replied and stretched.

She found it shocking how fast their lives had turned from a simple happiness to an absolute horror. Just two days ago they had been walking their brown and white boxer, Hank, down the street and discussing the possibilities of a wedding. She was grateful that the sitter had agreed to keep him for a couple extra days and even said she wouldn't charge them when she found out the reason why.

Finally a tired looking man, wearing a dress shirt and slacks underneath his long white lab coat, walked into the waiting room.

"Miss Sidle?" He asked.

Six sets of tired, anxious eyes looked up at him. Sara stood immediately and tried not to run over to him, he knew he had picked the right one as she was the one that seemed the most distraught.

"Yes, I'm Sara." She answered, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

"Hi." He held out his hand. "I'm Doctor Diller."

She shook his hand then politely introduced him to the others.

"They're family." She said with a determination that seemed final.

He looked at each of them and smiled in understanding. They were the only ones in the waiting room so he saw no need to crowd them all into the hall or his office.

"Let's sit, shall we?"

He motioned to the seats they had previously been occupying and they all complied. He inhaled a long, tired breath and let out a long, deep sigh.

"It's difficult to say where to begin." He rubbed his forehead. "I've seen a lot in my time as a doctor, but never before have I seen the extent of abuse that a man Mister Grissom's age has suffered."

He took another deep breath and sighed as he shook his head.

"First of all, he lost quite a bit of blood and we had to give him blood transfusions, but I don't believe the loss will cause complications with his recovery. Do you know if Mister Grissom was whipped?"

"Yes." Catherine replied after a moment of unsure silence.

An image of the bloodied whip flashed in her mind at the question.

"He has fifteen lacerations on his back, but most of them were not too severe. Only a few of them required stitches. Three of them wrap around his right side and come to his front." He pointed to himself to show where the wounds were. "Two on his chest and one on his stomach. Those did require some stitches." He opened the case file, looked at something inside, then closed it before continuing. "The total count of stitches for his torso were two hundred and thirty seven."

Everyone gasped, except for Sara. They all had gotten at least a glimpse of the wounds on his back, except for Greg who sat in shocked silence, but still found it shocking to hear the words spoken. Sara sat quietly as hot tears ran down her cheeks and she grabbed Jim's hand, who had been sitting next to her, and squeezed it fiercely.

The doctor truly wished that he didn't have to tell them the next part.

"I'm not sure if you are aware… Of the nature of the abuse that Mister Grissom has suffered…"

His quiet voice trailed off. It would not be easy to tell the family of a rape victim what had been done to their loved one. Before he could continue, Jim spoke.

"We know that he was raped." Jim quietly explained when Diller gave him a questioning look. "One of his kidnappers video taped it and sent us the disc."

The concern became more evident in the doctors eyes and he simply nodded his head. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to watch a loved one brutalized like that and he did not want to.

"He did require ten stitches in his rectum and I put him on a mild laxative until he has healed enough to not need them."

He paused for a moment to let it sink in and Sara mentally shook herself as she couldn't stop thinking about how they would get through this. His broken eyes flashed in her memory and she heard his broken whisper in her ear. She quietly tried to list in her mind all of his injuries that the doctor had told them about so far.

"We took full body x-rays and there is some deep bruising on his arms and legs. He also suffered a hairline fracture to his right cheek bone, three broken ribs and a three and a half inch hairline fracture on his left knee. He'll have to wear a brace for his knee until the fracture heals itself."

Sara took in the information he had just given her and made another mental note about his need for the knee brace. She nodded after processing what he had said and prayed that was the end of his list of injuries.

He let out another long sigh and she steeled herself against more to come.

"He also has a small skull fracture on the back of his head and some pretty severe bruising on his brain."

He calmly waited for their grief stricken reaction to pass before continuing.

"He has had a CT scan and there is no evident bleeding, which is good news. However, he does have a severe concussion."

"Is there… brain damage?" Sara didn't want to ask the question but knew she had to.

"It's possible, but we'll know more when he wakes up."

"Is he in a coma?" Greg asked.

"Doctor Kitts, our neurologist, will be in this evening to examine him and she will talk to you about it when she comes to her conclusion. Mister Grissom is going to need a lot of recovery time. After the beatings, the blood loss, the shock and the immense pain that I'm sure he suffered… his body is going to need a long time to rest and recuperate."

"How long do you think it could be before he's awake?" Nick asked.

"I can't say for sure." Diller said as he shrugged his shoulders.

"When can we see him?" Sara asked after a long silence.

"They're settling him into a private room upstairs. The nurse will come and get you when they're done."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes later a young nurse came into the waiting room and announced the name Grissom. They eagerly made their way over to her and she directed them up to Gil's room, but told them that only two would be allowed to go in. They stepped off the elevator and Sara and Jim headed towards the room while the others quietly filed into the waiting room. Sara paused at the door to his room. She wanted to see him, but she was almost afraid to. She was startled a little when she felt Jim's hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, kiddo. You're not alone."

His words infused her with the strength she needed and she pushed open the door.

They walked into the room and saw Gil's still form lying on the bed. He lay, positioned, on his left side with a white sheet draped over his legs, stopping at his waist. Two nurses were getting him settled in and quickly finished before solemnly leaving the room. As they stood by the door, unable to move, the only noise heard was the steady beep of his heart monitor. After a long moment Sara forced her feet to move and she went to his bedside and kissed him gently on his temple. The right side of his face was swollen twice its normal size and covered in a dark, ugly bruise. Two, white butterfly strips stood in contrast of the bruise where they held together a cut on his cheek.

Jim pulled a chair up to that side of the bed and directed Sara to sit, which she did so gratefully. Upon seeing him so broken and fragile her legs felt weak and she wasn't sure how long she could stand. She rested her arm on his pillow and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

"Hi, baby." She whispered.

She didn't know if he could hear her or not even though she had heard stories of people in comas hearing all that was going on around them. So she would talk to him and hope that he would respond.

"You have to come back to me, honey. Don't leave me."

She buried her face in her hands and openly wept for the man she had given her heart to. Jim lowered himself to one knee beside her chair and pulled her into his arms. She wept freely in his embrace, thankful to have such a strong and caring friend.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Ohhh, two in a rowJ Yes, Sara's revenge was gross, nasty and officially banned by the FCC. But if you didn't at least smile a little on the inside then you are not a true GSR fan and you are an official Grissom hater. Peace out. -Esther

I command you, minions, **REVIEW!**

**JellyBean, can I have my biscuit now???**


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: You_all _may need a flood light for this one.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Eleven

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Doctor Maria Kitts walked through the door Sara was a little surprised. For some reason, which she could not quite figure out, she hadn't expected the older, pleasant looking woman that stood before her with a warm smile and an extended hand.

"You must be Miss Sidle."

"Yes, but please, call me Sara."

Sara felt relaxed and comfortable in Maria's presence. Unlike any other doctor that she had seen.

"I'm Maria Kitts, the neurologist, and you can call me Maria."

Sara nodded and motioned to Jim.

"This is Jim Brass, he's family and you can share your findings with him as well."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jim."

He shook her hand and returned her warm smile.

She stepped over to the bed and let her eyes run over Gil's injured body.

"This must be Gil." She said with a touch of sadness in her voice.

"Yes." Sara replied quietly.

"I won't beat around the bush." She looked back at them. "I've seen his CT scan and his brain injury is very serious. Let me do a general exam and we'll see where that takes us, okay? Then I'll want to talk to you about possible aftereffects when I'm done."

She looked at Sara and Jim and when Sara nodded she stepped over to the bed.

She stood in silence for a long minute and watched Gil's chest rise and fall. The she took her stethoscope and listened to his breathing. When she was satisfied, she finished with his chest and moved up to his head. She pulled a fundoscope out of the pocket of her lab coat and gently parted his eye lids, examining one eye at a time. He cringed, ever so slightly, when she opened his swollen right eye and she finished her exam with a wide smile on her face.

"Good news." She announced as she turned to look at them. "Gil is _not_ in a coma."Both Jim and Sara were relieved and it was evident on their faces.

"He is what we consider borderline. Which means that he is not in a coma but because of the type and amount of damage it is still possible that he could slip into one."

A trembling sigh escaped Sara's lips and Jim took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"However, under the circumstances this is probably the best for him right now." Maria explained. "When a patient suffers severe injuries and trauma there are occasions when we induce a coma to allow the body to heal itself. His body has done that naturally for him. So, for now, we'll monitor him closely and just wait for him to wake up."

"How long do you think it could be before he wakes up?" Sara asked.

"It's too difficult to say, Sara, and I don't want to instill false hope." She put her hand on Sara's arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Like I said, we'll monitor him closely and when he is ready he'll come back to you."

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a pamphlet.

"I want you to read this when you get a minute. It explains what some of the symptoms are that patients who have suffered serious concussions may experience afterwards. Most of these symptoms will only last a few weeks, but it is possible that some could last a few _months_. That is if he experiences them at all. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Maria promised to return in the morning and left them alone in troubled silence.

"I'm sure the others would like to see him." Jim quietly suggested after a long moment.

Sara nodded her head and he left the room. The others were grateful to be given their turn to see their friend and to remind Sara that they were there and ready to help in any way. Greg had been the last to go in and he did so reluctantly. He kept himself at a distance and his teary eyes never left Gil's bruised face. Sara watched him carefully and when he spoke to her he never took his eyes off of Gil.

"I'm so sorry, Sara." His voice trembled. "If there's anything I can do."

He didn't give her time to respond. He hurried out of the room and down to the end of the hall.

Catherine sighed as they watched Greg hurry past the waiting room.

"He's taking this pretty hard." Nick said with a sad shake of his head.

"I'll go talk to him." Catherine sighed as she stood from her seat on the couch.

Greg stood at the end of the hall, in front of the large bay window that overlooked part of the city.

"Greg?"

She put her hand on his shoulder and gently turned him around. He looked back at her with sad, tear soaked eyes.

"He doesn't blame you, Greg."

He didn't speak, only hung his head, and she gently embraced him in hug.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim had convinced the others, after a lot of arguing, to go home and get some much needed rest. He told them that they could return in the morning and relieve he and Sara. He said that he would try to get her to go home in the morning and get some rest, but they all agreed that she would not leave.

Jim had gone down to the cafeteria to get another refill of coffee and at the same time take advantage of the opportunity to stretch his legs which had begun to stiffen up on him. He stood in front of the elevator, waiting for the car to return and take him on his magic carpet ride. He chuckled to himself as he realized that he was now going to have that song stuck in his head for the rest of the day. As he stood watching the numbers light up someone called him from behind. He turned his head to see Conrad approaching.

"Hey, Jim."

"Hey."

Jim looked down at his watch and was surprised to see that it was already close to six in the evening.

"How's he doing?" Conrad asked as he joined Jim in his wait.

"He's alive." Jim said with a slight hesitation.

The bell dinged and the doors opened. They were both grateful to be the only ones riding this time.

"Did you find the third guy at the scene?" Jim asked hopefully.

"No, but we did find a set of tire tracks that didn't match the black van or the car that O'Tool was driving when he was picked up. We took castings to be analyzed at the lab and I'll interrogate O'Tool when I get back."

The elevator came to a stop and let them out on their floor.

As they neared Gil's room Conrad put a hand on Jim's arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"I think you forgot something." Conrad said as he held out Jim's badge.

Jim looked down at his badge and took it, somewhat reluctantly.

"Conrad… I know I lost my temper during that interrogation… but if you're looking for an apology-"

He was cut off when Conrad held up his hand for Jim to stop talking.

"Look, Jim, I know Gil and I have never really seen eye to eye and we've done our share of head butting, but…"

He had to pause and Jim thought he saw the man's eyes begin to mist.

"I don't know if you took a good look at that room or not, but… I did and it was brutal."

He looked away for a long moment before continuing.

"There were two sets of bloodied shackles hanging from the walls… a bull whip that was coated with blood… and a bowl of bloodied roach clips that had what looked like small chunks of flesh caught in the teeth."

Jim cringed at the images that were presented with each thought that Conrad's words entered into his mind.

"As far as I'm concerned," Conrad continued. "O'Tool threatened you and you had to restrain him."

Jim was humbled by what had just been revealed and was glad that they had an understanding and they silently acknowledged their pact.

When they entered Gil's room Doctor Diller was standing at Gil's bedside and Sara was pointing to the multiple gauze pads that were taped under his arms.

"What are these wounds here, doctor? I don't remember you mentioning them earlier."

"I believe they might be wounds that he sustained when he was whipped." He carefully lifted the sheet to reveal more patches on his inner thighs but nothing more. "But it looks like the skin was ripped off by something…jagged maybe…" His thought trailed off.

Jim and Conrad exchanged concerned looks.

"Could that have been caused by roach clips?"

Jim's abrupt question caught Diller and Sara off guard and they both looked at him, confused by what he said.

"I found a bowl of bloody roach clips at the scene." Conrad explained.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Diller asked politely.

"Conrad Ecklie." He held out his hand which the doctor shook. "I'm the lead investigator on this case."

Conrad ignored Sara when she glared at him.

"So they attached the roach clips to his skin…" Diller began.

"And ripped them off." Sara finished.

Diller closed his eyes and sadly shook his head.

"It never ceases to amaze me." He looked at Gil. "He'll need a tetanus shot."

"He had one six months ago." Sara smiled at the memory. "He stepped on a nail in the garage."

"I remember that." Jim nodded. "We called him 'Ol Doc Hobble for three days. I believe his exact words were, "fucking nails."

Sara had enjoyed the smile. It had been her first unforced and happy smile in two days, but one look at Gil's helpless form again brought back the sadness that had taken its place in her life.

Then they heard it. From the bed came a soft whimper of pain. All four heads turned to see what it was that had made the noise. Gil still lay on his side, his facial features flinching and the fingers of both hands twitching. It lasted a full minute as they stood in shocked silence, but Sara came out of her surprise and went back to his bedside. When she took his hand and spoke softly to him his sleep calmed and the nightmare was chased away. Diller checked his vital signs and when he was satisfied he turned back to the others.

"Even though that was obviously a nightmare it's still a good sign." He explained. "Any brain activity is a good sign. I'll call Doctor Kitts and let her know."

He started to leave but turned back.

"Um, forgive me but almost forgot." He cleared his throat. "We've taken blood samples and have sent them to our lab to test for AIDS and STD's and I had one of our nurses run a rape kit."

"I'll need that rape kit, doctor." Conrad spoke up.

Diller nodded and excused himself.

"So, what?" Anger and sarcasm seeped through Sara's voice. "You just, all of a sudden decide that you want to help Gil? Or are you doing this for you own personal gratification?"

She continued to glare at him and his face began to redden as his own anger grew, but he calmed himself before responding.

"The reason we're taking Gil's case on days is because when we get these bastards in court I don't want the judge to throw out the case because their lawyers said the investigating team was partial, because their boss was the victim. Also, because you guys are distraught over this and no one can blame you. I only watched the beginning of that disc and I know what it did to me so I can only _imagine_ what it did to you guys to watch him abused like that."

Gil's eyes slowly fluttered open. He found himself looking at an empty chair, but when he heard voices his eyes began to slowly scan the room. He felt relieved to see the three familiar figures standing at the foot of his bed. He wondered if he was in a hospital. Then he vaguely wondered what disc it was that made them so distraught. As Conrad's last words reached Gil's ears and darkness overcame him again he was dragged back into the abyss.

"If you want to nail their asses to the wall," Conrad continued gently. "Then let's not leave any holes for them to bury us in."

Sara thought that maybe she had misjudged the man and let it drop. The doctor had returned and passed the kit off to Conrad. Jim said he'd walk him to his car and they would discuss putting an armed guard at the door, until the third man was found.

Sara sat down in the chair next to Gil's bed and toed off her shoes. She stretched her legs and wriggled her toes. She had barely slept since he had gone and now she tucked her feet underneath her and rested her head back on the chair. In seconds she was out like a light.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Shelling watched from around the corner as Jim and Conrad walked out the front door discussing guard rotations. Once they were outside Shelling hurried over to the nurses station.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" His voice was coated with worry and desperation.

"Yes?" The young blond replied.

"My name is Aaron Grissom. I got a call about my brother, Gil. They said he was beat up and that I could see him here?"

"It's past visiting hours." She tried to explain.

He looked at the clock be hind her and it read just after eight.

"Please, ma'am," He pleaded. "I just drove here from Fresno and I just need to see him for a few minutes."

A tear formed in his eye and she paused before saying more. She hated refusing people to see their loved ones. She didn't become a nurse to be cruel. She became a nurse because she was compassionate and caring. She directed him up to Gil's room and warned him that he could only stay for fifteen minutes then would have to leave as it _was _past visiting hours. He thanked her over and over and hurried off to the bank of elevators.

When the elevator came to a stop he stepped off and peeked around the corner, smiling to himself when he saw the empty hallway.

"Not too smart for law enforcement." He thought aloud.

He quickly made his way to the end of the short hallway and slipped into Gil's room, quietly closing the door behind him. The only light in the room was the night lamp over the bed letting his eyes quickly adjust to the dark. As his sight fully adjusted he saw Gil's still form lying on the bed and beside him Sara slept soundly in the chair. Quickly and on quiet feet he moved to the other side of Gil's bed.

He looked down at Gil with blank eyes. As if he was not the one in control. As if… there was something in him. An explainable evil. He reached into the back of his pants and pulled out the eight inch bowie knife that was still nestled in its sheath. He slowly pulled the blade from its encasing and put his other hand over Gil's mouth. The blade glinted in the night light over Gil's bed as he purposefully brought it down to Gil's throat. He hesitated only for a moment. As the sharp edge cut deep into Gil's flesh his warm, sticky blood squirted onto Shelling's hand and coated the blade of the knife. The only noise heard from the dying form below him was a faint gurgling as he struggled for his very last breath. Then nothing. As Gil's life blood soaked the sheets that he lay on, Shelling turned his now hungry eyes towards Sara and started to make his way back around the bed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Floodlights, on! Don't give up one me, Sara hangs in the balance and they revive dead people everyday:)


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I hope the wait has paid off and your faith in me has been redeemed.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twelve

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara awoke with a sharp gasp as she felt a presence standing over her.

"It's okay." Jim assured as he held his hands up as if in surrender.

She quickly looked at Gil and was relieved to see no blood and to see him still sleeping and still breathing. She put her feet down on the floor and rubbed her face with her hands.

"Sorry. I just had this horrible nightmare." "You want to talk about it?" He pulled another chair up to the bedside and sat down, facing her.

"I dreamt that he came for Gil." Fear was evident in her voice.

"Who?" His brow creased.

"The third man. No one has said anything about it, so I assume he got away."

She looked at Jim, waiting for him to speak the answer she already knew. He silently nodded his head.

"I'm here tonight," He assured. "And we'll have a uniform outside the door at all times as soon as one gets here. Okay?"

She just nodded and went back to watching Gil's sleeping form. Jim picked up the pamphlet that Doctor Kitts had given her and began to read through it. His only response to what he read were several disgusted grunts and the occasional shake of his head.

As if the poor man hasn't already been through enough. He thought bitterly.

Sara knew what he was thinking without having to ask. She had leafed through the pamphlet herself. The list of things that he could possibly suffer from as aftereffects was staggering.

"He's got a long road ahead of him."

Jim shook his head as he put the pamphlet back down on the bedside table and looked sadly at his friend.

The nurses had been quite considerate of Jim and Sara. They had found a cot for them to use as well as the couch that was opposite Gil's bed. Then they gave them extra blankets and pillows.

Jim tried to get Sara to lay down on the cot for a while, but she politely refused. When he headed for the couch, she leveled her best glare on him and he dramatically sat on the cot and huddled under the blankets. His humorous quaking in fear made her laugh.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

At eight o'clock the next morning Nick, Warrick and Catherine quietly walked through the door, carrying bags of food they had picked up at their favorite diner. Sara hadn't been able to sleep since her nightmare and greeted her friends with quiet eyes and genuine happiness.

"Good morning." Catherine whispered, upon seeing Jim asleep on the cot.

Nick and Warrick smiled at each other and tiptoed over to where the detective slept. Nick gently sat down on the edge of the cot and pulled a forgotten latex glove out of his pocket. He dangled it over Jim's face and slowly lowered it. It was just about to touch Jim's nose when he spoke, nearly giving Nick a heart attack.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mister Stokes."

Nick froze, confused by Jim's still closed eyes and serene features until he saw the smile slowly stretch across the older man's face and he knew he'd been had. Jim slowly opened his eyes and enjoyed the dejected look on the young man's face. The others laughed and Warrick held up the plastic bag that he had carried in.

"Breakfast."

"Mmm, smells good." Jim said and pushed Nick off the cot.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Just as they were finishing breakfast two nurses came in and greeted them all good morning.

"We need to change Mister Grissom's bandages." The older one said.

They all took the unspoken suggestion and moved out of the room. Nick and Warrick gathered the empty cartons and put them in the trash.

"Look," Jim started. "Would one of you guys mind sticking around until the officer gets here to stand guard?"

"Sure, no problem." Warrick volunteered.

"Good, thank you." Jim replied as he tied his shoes. "Sara and I really need to go home and get some rest."

Although he had been on the cot when they arrived it was now evident by the look on his face and the tiredness in his voice that he hadn't actually slept at all.

"What?" Sara looked at him in annoyance. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Look… Sara." He tried to bargain.

"No. I'm not leaving." She said defiantly.

Jim took a step forward, ready for an argument, when he felt Catherine's hand on his arm and he stopped. He looked at her and she whispered.

"Let me try."

Sara sat down in a chair with her arms folded defiantly across her chest. Catherine knelt down next to the chair and put her hand on the younger woman's arm.

"Sara." She called gently.

Sara didn't want to acknowledge her so Catherine took her chin and gently brought her head around to face her.

"Sara, honey, I know you don't want to leave him but you want to stay strong for him, don't you?"

A tear rolled down Sara's cheek and she nodded her head slowly. Catherine reached up and brushed away the tear.

"Listen, okay?" She waited for her nod. "Go home with Jim. Get a shower, some rest and a hot meal. Then you can come back later. I'll stay with Gil until you come back, Okay?"

Sara looked at each of the others and upon seeing approving looks on all of their faces she reluctantly nodded her head.

She put on her sneakers and went back to Gil's bedside. She watched him for a minute then leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his temple. She stroked her fingers through his graying curls and after a moment she placed her soft lips next to his ear.

"I love you, Gil." She whispered. "And I'll be back this afternoon, okay baby?"

Once more she placed a kiss on his temple and reluctantly joined Jim at the door. She longingly looked back to where her love lay, silently and Jim gently led her out of the room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The car ride had been uncomfortably silent and when they reached his house it didn't change.

Jim watched Sara carefully as she headed for the guest room. She was shaking and Jim's heart sank when he heard her faint sobs. He took her by her arms and gently turned her around. The sorrow that had once again enveloped her features broke his heart and shattered his reserve. He pulled her into his arms and they cried hard in each others embrace.

"Sara," He said softly. "We care about you. You know that right?"

"I need him, Jim" Sara replied quietly, her voice filled with exhaustion and uncertainty.

"I know, hon. I know"

They cried for ten minutes before they calmed. The release had left them both exhausted and relieved. Her legs were unsteady and he helped her down the hall and into the guest room where he sat her down on the bed. He held out her pajamas but she looked at them with disinterest and shook her head.

"I'm too tired to care."

At that moment a long dormant, paternal instinct kicked in. Jim bent down to untie her shoes and helped her under the covers. She was fast asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. After tucking her into bed Jim marveled for a moment at how strong Sara had been through this whole, terrifying experience and how strong she would be when she would wake. Her renewed energy when she would wake would give her strength and Gil strength.

Jim shut off the light and closed the door behind him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Sara rolled over and looked at the clock she was stunned. She had slept for twelve straight hours and now felt a desperate need to pee. She climbed out of bed and stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom where she fumbled for the light switch and almost wet herself in her hurry to get her pants down in time. She thought her water would never end and afterwards she washed her hands and headed back to her room.

As she passed Jim's bedroom door she stopped when she heard a troubled moan. He had left the door open a crack and she cautiously pushed it open.

"Jim?" She whispered.

She was answered by another troubled moan. In the dimming daylight that was making it way through the curtains she could make out his form laying under the covers on his bed. She realized that he was having a dream and left him be. She was sure that she knew what he was dreaming about. After watching that disc they would all be having nightmares for a while.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

On day three, their spirits were lifted. Jim and Sara walked into Gil's room after grabbing coffee. Sara almost dropped the full cup in her hand when she looked at Gil and found him looking back at her. She hurried over to his bedside, her mind was a race of thoughts as she set her coffee down on the bedside table.

"Hi, baby."

She thought her face would break for the smile on it and she took his hand. He flinched when she touched him. While her smile faded a little she didn't pull her hand away. Jim was behind Sara and Gil's eyes widened with fear and his breathing increased rapidly as Jim approached. The beep of the heart monitor quickened and by the sound Sara thought, for a brief moment, that he was going into cardiac arrest.

When Gil recognized Jim he calmed back down and quickly averted his eyes, automatically steeling himself for a slap across the face. Jim noticed his friends confusion and discomfort and stopped.

"Hey, Gil, it's okay." Jim said in his most soothing voice. "I'm just going to find the doctor, okay?"."

Gil didn't respond, only looked at his friend with wide eyes. After Jim left the room Sara sat back down next to the bed. Gil tightened his grip on her hand as if she would leave if he loosened it.

"It's okay." She reassured as she sat down. "I'm not going anywhere."

She ran her fingers through his soft, graying curls and he shrank away from her touch. She sighed at his reaction, but let her hands softly caress his face and arms. She hoped her soft touches would soothe him.

"How are you feeling, honey?"

"S-s-s-sore." He stuttered.

Confusion and anxiety flitted across his face at the same time and Sara's brow creased with concern.

At that moment Jim walked through the door with Doctor Diller close behind. Upon seeing a man that he didn't recognize, Gil panicked. His eyes grew wide and his chest constricted as fear overwhelmed him. Suddenly his arms and legs went out straight and his body arched and tensed as his eyes rolled back in his head. As he let out a long, loud groan of distress his heart monitor went wild and his body began to convulse. Nurses ran into the room, along with Doctor Maria Kitts who had already been on her way to see her patient. There was little that could be done while they waited for him to ride out the seizure. One of the nurses rubbed his back and gently shook his shoulders as he stopped breathing and his lips began to turn blue.

"Come on, Gil" She gently urged.

She sent one of the younger nurses out of the room and she quickly returned with an oxygen tank. She struggled for a moment to follow his shaking head and as his body began to calm she slipped the points of the nasal cannula into his nose and tucked the tubes behind his ears.

Sara had hurried to Jim's side to get out of the way. Now she clung desperately to Jim's strong arm as they both stood, rooted in fear, and helplessly watched. As his body slowly started to come back to awareness, his mind had not. He finally gasped for air and tried to sit up, but the nurses stopped him and gently guided him to lay back down.

"It's alright, Gil, it's alright."

One of them soothed as she rubbed his arm and he tried to get up again. He took a wild swing with his arm, but it was expertly blocked by another nurse.

"It's okay, Gil." She said, being careful not to sound threatening. "You're okay."

He finally gave in and lay back down on the bed as he became aware of his surroundings again. He moaned loudly and the charge nurse motioned for Sara to step over to the bedside.

Sara complied and took his hand as she bent over to be eye level with him.

"It's okay, baby." She soothed.

He tried to focus his eyes and moaned in distress when he tried to talk.

"Shhh, it's okay, just lie still and rest."

With her free hand she took two tissues from the box on the night stand and gently wiped the drool from his face. After several minutes his mind and body returned to their original state before the epileptic event. Now he felt more tired than before and closed his eyes. Sara had thought that he had gone to sleep until he spoke.

"S-S-Sara?"

She sat in the chair and maintained her eye contact even though he didn't.

"Hey, you're back." She smiled.

The others stood watching and when everything had calmed back down the nurses returned to their other duties.

"W-W-What hap-p-pened?" Exhaustion seeped through his struggling voice.

"You had a seizure, baby." She reached up to stroke his hair again.

"He'll need an EEG." Maria said after a moment and made a few notes on her clipboard. "Do you know if he has ever had a seizure before?"

"Not before now." Sara said as she shook her head.

"Well, some people develop epilepsy after having a severe concussion. It usually doesn't develop until years later though, so perhaps this is just a reaction in his injured brain to an extreme stimulus."

"I was the cause, my presence set it off." Diller said then turned to Jim. "Do I look like one of his attackers?"

"No, not really," Jim replied. "But he tensed when _I_ came into the room too."

"Any person who Gil doesn't recognize, or even his male friends for that matter, could cause that reaction." Doctor Kitts said. "I'm guessing, though, that this may have been just an isolated incident where his brain is injured and it received over stimulation, but I want to run a few tests to be sure."

She waited for Sara to nod and continued when she did. "Be forewarned though, it is possible that he could have others, but we'll run the tests and monitor him closely and if need be I'll give him a prescription that will help control any further seizures."

"What about the stuttering?" Jim asked. "That's not from the seizure, is it?"

"No. If he didn't stutter before receiving the blow to his head than it's an aftereffect of the brain trauma and will most likely go away over time, as the brain heals itself. Did you have a chance to read through that pamphlet I gave you?"Both Sara and Jim nodded.

"Some of those symptoms may not show up for a few days, or even not at all. When he goes home you will have to monitor anything unusual that happens with him and make note of them. That way you can tell me what's going on when he returns for his check ups and we'll be able to decide if treatment will be necessary."

Diller stepped forward in an attempt to introduce himself but when he saw Gil begin to tense again he stepped back for fear of causing another seizure.

"Mister Grissom, I'm Stephen Diller, I've been your doctor since you were brought in and we were informed that your regular physician is out of town." Then he motioned to Maria. "And this is Doctor Maria Kitts, your treating neurologist."

Maria smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but she didn't mind.

"I'll need to check your wounds and ask you a few questions, Mister Grissom, will you let me?" Diller asked.

Gil shook his head and looked like he might burst into tears. Diller sighed dejectedly and turned to Sara.

"How long did you say before his regular Physician is back in town?"

"Three weeks." Sara replied.

"Is there another physician, perhaps, that he would feel more comfortable with? One that could assist me on my visits with Mister Grissom."

There was a long silence as Sara tried to think of someone and Jim spoke up.

"What about Al?"

"Doc Robbins." Sara agreed and turned to the two doctors. "He's head coroner for the county. He's known Gil for fifteen years, and he's a licensed physician."

"If it would make Mister Grissom more comfortable than I would prefer it if he were present, "Diller continued. "Since Doctor Robbins probably doesn't have faculties with the hospital, he could be in the room with me during Mister Grissom's exams. It might help with his anxiety."

"What do you think, Gil?" Sara looked at him. "Will you let Doc Robbins look at you?"

Gil didn't want anyone to look at him, especially his friends. He didn't want his friends to know what he had done, that is if the doctor hadn't told them already. Then he realized that at least Sara knew when he remembered asking her to be his medical power of attorney. Thoughts flooded over him, making him more tired, as he remembered the process of investigation too. The thorough exams that would have been done and the rape kit they would have collected when they realized what had happened.

His face became red with embarrassment when he began to wonder who knew what had happened. Then the memory of Sara, Jim and Conrad discussing a disc came to mind and he wondered why the doctor knew there was more than one attacker and how Jim and Sara might know what they looked like.

"Gil?" Sara called to him, bring him back to the moment.

He hadn't realized how far his thoughts had drifted and how incredibly tired he now felt. He looked up at Sara, only to quickly avert his eyes and wait for the impending slap across his face. Instead he felt her gently lift his chin with one hand, while her other hand gently caressed his uninjured cheek.

"Gil," She said with patience and love. "Will you let Doc Robbins examine you?"

While she was concerned about his inability to maintain eye contact, she didn't let it show. He reluctantly nodded his head. At least he could trust Al and he knew that Al wouldn't go running his mouth about what he saw in the exam. Or so he hoped.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Yikes! Do you guys realize how much research was involved in this one chapter just so it doesn't look uneducated? Holy crap. Not that it wasn't fun to look this stuff up (kind of made me feel smart) or that I'm sure it came out right. *fingers crossed* I hope none of you readers are doctors. LOL!!! Just kidding.

Thank you, JellyBean, for pulling me through that one. I think I'm losing my steam.

By the way, did any of you really think that I was going to just kill Gilbert Grissom like that??? I hope you know me better than that by now. There are so many more horrible things that I can do to him before the end. LOL!!! Just kidding. Just kidding. Hey, come on. Come back. No, don't unsubscribe! I was just joking. You're gonna make me cry, do you know that???

Sorry about that. That happens sometimes. The doctors say it's just my split personality. No worries.

Don't make me beg for it. I shouldn't have to. After all you guys are the ones that have been begging me, perhaps you just need a change of rolls. Alright, I'll do it. *grumbles*

PLEASE!!! YOU HAVE TO REVIEW!!! I NEED IT!!!

Are you happy now?! Look what you guys have reduced me too. LOL!!! Peace out. -Esther


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I never realized just how hard rape is on men before I started researching for this story. Especially in our society where men are supposed to be tougher than tough. If any of you want a preview of what Grissom is going to experience further on in the story do a little research on male rape. Not only will it give you a little insight on our bugman's future in this story it will also give you a little more understanding and compassion towards men who have suffered from being raped. It has for me.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Thirteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Morning, Conrad." Jim said as he stopped in the doorway to the other man's office.

"Good morning, Jim." Conrad motioned to the chair on the other side of his desk. "How's he doing?"

"Well… he's awake." Jim said as he sat down.

"That's good news. Do you think he's willing to give a statement?"

"No. He's not ready to relive that yet." The memory of Gil's seizure was still fresh in his mind and there was no way that he would set his friend up for another episode. "How's case going?"

Conrad took a sip of his coffee and set the cup down on the desk.

"We, uh, found a broken digital camera at the scene. It had three different sets of prints on it, two of them belonged to Denalgio and O' Tool and we haven't gotten a hit on the third yet. We also collected three different DNA samples from Gil. Two were Denalgio and O' Tool and we didn't get an exact match on the third but it did have seven alleles in common with a John Shelling. He's lock up. I called about interrogating him, but apparently he was killed by his cell mate two days ago."

"What about the camera? Did you guys find a disk or something?" Jim immediately regretted asking the question when Conrad let out a troubled sigh.

"Yeah, we found a chip."

"What's on the chip?"

"A recording of Denalgio whipping Gil. According to the number of lacerations that Gil actually has we figure it's only the first half of the session. Then Denalgio sees whoever is holding the camera, probably O' Tool, and goes ballistic. So they probably didn't know about the first disc that O' Tool sent you." There was hesitation. "And there was something else."

The lack of color in Conrad's face told Jim more than he really wanted hear. He began to feel sick as he nodded for Conrad to continue.

"O' Tool recorded himself… alone… with Gil." Conrad inhaled a deep breath. "He, um… sexually abused Gil pretty badly in the second video. It was quite humiliating."

Silence filled the room as Jim put his head in his hands. He bitterly thought that he should have greased that little shit when he had the chance.

"Also," Conrad continued as he picked up the file folder. "We did find Gil's DNA all over the scene. The blood on the whip, roach clips, shackles, table, wall and floor were all his. We also found three different places where Gil had… ejaculated."

Jim's head shot up and he leveled a hateful glare on the bald man behind the desk.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Al Robbins was shocked. The color had drained from his face as he sat in stunned silence in Doctor Diller's office with he and Jim. Like everyone else at the lab he knew that Gil had been kidnapped. He had even been to see him twice, despite the fact that he was still unconscious and unable to communicate. At that point he knew that it was more for Sara and the rest of the gang than it was for Gil, although he did believe the positive energy of people coming to wish him well could speed his recovery.

Now as he sat and listened to Jim tell the details and nature of Gil's abuse he could only shake his head in disgust. When Jim finished giving all of the gruesome details, with Diller's help, silence filled the room.

"Goddamn them." Al finally growled as he pounded his cane on the floor. "Did you catch the guys?"

He looked at Jim expectantly and Jim sighed.

"One dead, one in jail and the third man got away."

"I hope you've posted a guard."

"Yes." Jim simply replied.

"What is it that you need me to do?" Al turned to Diller and waited for a response.

"Mister Grissom refuses to let me near him. We thought that, perhaps, he would be more willing if there was a physician present that he was more familiar with and already trusted."

Al thought this over for a moment and then nodded his head.

"When do we start?"

"Well, the sooner the better. I really need to check his wounds and stitches."

"Let's do it now then."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara had not been allowed to leave Gil's side. When she attempted to leave when he was awake his grip on her hand increased to the point that she thought it would break. It had gotten very bad the day before when he had fallen asleep and she had gone to use the toilet. After she finished, she walked out of the adjoining bathroom and he was frantic. He was sitting up and looking terrified as tears streamed down his face. She had run to his side and pulled him into a hug. He buried himself into her embrace and sobbed uncontrollably while she tightly held his shaking form.

"Shhh, it's alright." She soothed as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm here."

"P-p-please d-don't l-l-leave m-me." His stuttering voice begged.

"Hey," She lifted his chin, but his eyes remained downcast. It troubled her that he still wouldn't look at her of his own accord but she was resolved to not stop trying. "Look at me, Gil" She gently urged.

When he reluctantly looked up at her she cupped his face with her hands.

"I will never leave you, Gil. Do you understand?"

Words were impossible so he nodded his head.

"No matter what you may think you have done, I will _never_ leave you." She looked deep into his eyes, as if it connected their souls. "That is my promise."

The repetitiveness would surely become annoying, but it would be a small price to pay as he would need constant reassurance for a long time coming.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Although Gil was much more comfortable with Jim now, Jim decided that it might cause him too much anxiety to have three men in the room and went outside to make a few phone calls instead. Al and Doctor Diller calmly and quietly entered the room and shut the door behind them.

Al approached him first, but stayed at the foot of the bed and kept his hands where they could be seen.

"Good morning, Gil." He smiled with genuine warmth.

Gil looked up at him and smiled. Although he did look away he held his eye contact a little longer this time.

"Hi, A-Al."

"How are you feeling today?"

"B-b-bet-better."

The stuttering concerned Al but he knew it was a side-effect of his injuries and didn't let it show.

"You've met Doctor Diller." Al motioned to Diller, who took an unassuming step forward.

Gil looked fearfully between the two men and tensed. Diller took a step back and Gil calmed a little.

"Gil, Doctor Diller is here to help you and he won't hurt you." Al tried to reassure. "He needs to examine your wounds, Gil, to be sure that they are on the proper mend. Will you let him?"

Gil didn't even want the guy in same room, much less touching him, and he shook his head as he kept his eyes on his and Sara's joined hands.

"What if I stay in here with you?" Al offered. "Then would you?"

Gil shook his head more adamantly this time. Al looked from Sara to Diller, who gave him the cue to go to plan 'B'.

"Gil, what if I did the exam? Would that be okay?"

Gil considered it for a long moment. He still didn't want Al to see what had happened to him but he was sure, or so he hoped, that he could trust Al. He also knew that if he didn't cooperate than they would never let him leave the hospital. He reluctantly nodded his head and took a deep breath in an attempt to gain a little courage.

"C-c-can S-s-sara st-st-stay?" He looked at Al with pleading eyes then quickly looked away.

"That doesn't bother me. Is that okay with you, Doctor Diller?"

"Of course, Gil." Doctor Diller said, making sure that he stayed in a neutral location. "We want you to feel comfortable. Remember, you have nothing to fear from us. We want you to get healthy."

"He has t-to st-st-stay?" Gil asked Al.

"Yes, Gil. He's the attending doctor and I don't have faculties at the hospital," Al explained. "But he's allowing me to examine you."

Gil looked at Sara. She recognized the fear in his eyes and whispered in his ear.

"Do you remember what I said yesterday?"

Gil smiled sheepishly at the memory and nodded his head.

"N-n-never l-l-leave m-me."

"That's right." She smiled and kissed him on top of his head.

He still didn't feel comfortable when Sara touched him, other than holding his hand, but he tried very hard not let it show.

"Okay, let's begin." Al said.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Al decided the best way to proceed was head to toe. It would give Gil some time to adjust to the feeling of being pawed over before the exam reached the more intimate stages. He and Sara helped Gil to sit up in the bed to give him easier access and he started with the crack on the back of his head.

The semi-circular patch that had been shaved around the skull fracture was already showing tiny stubbles of hair growing back in. The four staples holding him together looked irritating and he was sure that the inevitable itching bugged the hell out of his friend.

"How do theses staples feel, Gil?"

"An-n-noying."

Al smirked at Sara.

"Do they itch?" Al asked, receiving a nod from Gil , who proceeded to subconsciously try to scratch at them.

"You know better than that, Gil." Al corrected as he gently pushed the mans hand away. "You'll make it worse if you scratch them."

He carefully examined Gil's damaged cheek and was pleased to see that it was healing quite nicely compared to the photos that he had been shown by Doctor Diller. The swelling was gone and the deep gash looked like nothing more than a bad scratch.

"That bruise is looking a lot better." Al commented.

Gil covered his cheek with his hand and reddened slightly as he remembered the degrading fashion in which he had gotten the bruise.

He had Gil raise each arm and carefully examined the spots where his flesh had been ripped off, piece by agonizing piece. Although still raw, portions were beginning to scab an none looked infected under their non-stick pads.

Al moved down to look at his chest and stomach. He gently prodded the area around the stitched lacerations, causing Gil to cringe. He did the same with the bruising on his left side and Gil gritted his teeth against the whimper edging its way out of his throat. Then Al slowly moved around the right side of his body being thorough with his examination of each wound. When he was satisfied he straightened back up and said with a smile.

"Well, Gil, your top half is healing well." Then he added in a more quiet tone. "Now, I need you to lie on you back and spread you legs, ok?"

Gil's cheeks burned with embarrassment as Sara helped him to lie back down and he nervously spread his legs. The sheet had gotten in Al's way and he moved it back, completely exposing Gil. With Sara's help he carefully removed the knee brace and examined the injured joint. When he was satisfied they replaced the brace and he moved up Gil's leg. Hot tears stung Gil's eyes as he felt Doc Robbins' fingers on his inner thighs. Suddenly a memory of standing opposite of Al with a cold, steel slab between them flashed in his mind. At that moment he wished he was one of those corpses on Al's slabs. At least he wouldn't feel the humiliation.

The feeling only increased when, lastly, Al had him roll back onto his left side and gently parted his cheeks before probing his rectum with his finger. He squeezed his eyes shut and Sara tightened her grip on his hand when it began to shake.

Gil tried to be strong. He wanted to be the man that Sara deserved. The man that he thought he once was, but he knew it was impossible.

I'm no man. He thought hatefully. I'm laying here, quivering like a baby and too damned scared to let go of her hand. She'll never want me now

"I'm no man." Gil believed that he had said those words to himself, but they came softly out of his mouth. Sara heard them-three words that resonated how much emotional pain he felt. Her only response was to grip his hand a little tighter.

Gil swallowed hard and drew in long, shaky breaths through his nose.

Even after Al had announced the completion of his exam and pulled the sheet and blanket back down to cover his friend Gil still didn't open his eyes, but he pulled his hand away from Sara's and curled into himself. Sara looked up at Al and they exchanged concerned looks.

"Gil?"

She put her face down in front of Gil's and soothingly rubbed his arm. He held himself a little tighter and turned his face towards the pillow.

"P-p-please l-leave m-me al-lone." His stuttering voice was muffled.

Al had taken a step back, but went back to Gil's bedside.

"Gil…you're doing better. And you're going to get stronger."

"G-g-go aw-way!" He said bitterly. "All-all of y-you g-g-go aw-way!"

Sara was hurt and it showed on her face when she sat up and looked at Al. He shook his head. Al was about to leave but stopped and tapped his cane thoughtfully on the floor.

"Doctor Diller? Sara? Would you give us a minute, please?"

Doctor Diller nodded and motioned for Sara to follow him out of the room. She hesitated.

"Gil?" Sara knew she had to let him decide if he wanted her to leave. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I j-j-just w-want all-all-all of y-you-you t-to g-g-go aw-away!"

"Okay." Sara said with a concerned and let Doctor Diller lead her out of the room.

"Y-y-you t-t-too A-al."

Instead of leaving or verbally responding Al pulled a chair back up to Gil's bedside. He made sure to make enough noise so that Gil knew what he was doing.

Al sat in the chair, waiting for any acknowledgement from him. Gil turned his face back around, but he only stared into space and didn't look at Al.

"I can never understand your pain, Gil." Al said to break the silence. "But I do understand the feeling of loss. The feeling of being transformed into someone that you never imagined you would become."

Gil tensed. No, you can't understand. I did this to myself. Gil thought. He stayed silent and simply stayed in a cocoon in his own mind.

Al knew that Gil would never meet his eyes or respond, but he still felt the need to try.

"I know, Gil. I know each day is a trial."

You legs… you didn't do that to yourself. I did this to myself. Gil thought bitterly.

"Gil… please listen to me." Al said with concern and resilience. "Don't let your memories make you believe that you aren't strong enough for each trial. You are."

I did this to myself. The single thought floated in his head, over and over again.

Al patted Gil on the shoulder and stood to leave.

"I'll see you in a couple of days. I'm going to tell Sara to come back inside."

Gil nodded but didn't move otherwise and Al made his way to the door. What Gil didn't know was that the older man could feel that Gil had turned his head to watch the doctor exit.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim was just coming back from making his phone calls when Al emerged from the room and joined the other two. His brow creased with confusion upon seeing Sara with the two doctors and not in her usual place at Gil's bedside. He told the officer to take a break so their conversation could remain private.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked Sara.

"He told me to go away." She quietly replied.

"He what?" Jim wasn't sure he believed her.

"He told us all to leave him alone and go away."

Jim looked between the two doctors, hoping for clarification on his friends sudden mood swing.

"This is a natural response from a rape victim, especially a male victim." Al solemnly explained. "Gil obviously feels ashamed of himself and probably blames himself for what happened."

"But they had his hands tied behind his back." Jim argued as his volume went up a little. "They forced that…thing in his mouth and he couldn't fight back."

Al put up his hand to stop Jim's rant.

"Jim, what you guys saw on that disc was the truth. They forced him into those sex acts, but in his mind he probably believes that it was his fault because he was unable to fight back."

"And he rejected me because he doesn't think that he's a man anymore?" Sara asked, trying to out the pieces together.

"That's possible." Diller added. "Most rape victims lose all self-respect after the act. They feel ashamed or humiliated, especially men. Because in our society they're supposed to be strong enough to be able to defend themselves. Also, if Mister Grissom got an erection, or even ejaculated, during the act than he may be confused and think that he wanted the act to happen or even enjoyed it.

Jim let out a sigh as he shook his head.

"I wondered… why Denalgio reached down on him during the rape."

"In a study done by Groth and Burgess," Al picked up. "Many attackers _try_ to get their victims to ejaculate in order to increase the victims' feelings of shame and degradation. It also tends to confuse the victim into thinking that it means they enjoyed it, and for heterosexual men it may make them believe that it means they are gay when, in fact, it's just the natural response of pressure being put on the prostate."

As the four of them stood there, letting this new information settle in, not one of them noticed that they had not latched the door. It stood open just an inch, but it was enough too let their entire conversation drift to Gil's ears. Although, after hearing that Jim and Sara had seen what had happened the rest of the conversation was lost to him.

Not only did they know what he had done, they had watched him do it. They had watched him not fight back. They had watched him willingly take every thrust into his body. The woman he loved had watched him give himself to Shelling as he swallowed every drop of the mans seed.

He buried his face back into the pillow and soaked it with his bitter tears as his body was wracked by hard sobs. His self-hatred grew in his darkened soul and he wished that Shelling had ended his life in that room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: You guys are definitely going to need illumination devices. It is about to get really dark in here.

I have been hurdled over the 100 mark by your reviews. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

By the way, does anyone know if Grissom ever got his Komodo Dragon??? Peace out. -Esther


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to American Love by Hasten The Day

Warning: This chapter includes vague descriptions of rape and less vague descriptions of child abuse and molestation.

A/N: Let it be known that I hate child molesters and abusers even more than I hate rapists, but it aids the story and understanding of the characters and none of it was written lightly. Even as I wrote it my own stomach clenched.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Fourteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Why don't you two walk me out to my car." Al said and Sara and Jim followed.

The journey out to the parking lot had been silent. There were too many ears and Gil's business was non of theirs. When they reached his car Al turned to face them and leaned back against the vehicle. He looked at the ground, deep in thought, for a long moment before he spoke.

"Gil's going to need a lot of help to get him back to anything resembling a normal life." Sara and Jim nodded their agreement. "He's going to need a lot of therapy. Sara," He raised his eyes to look at her. "You really need to find a therapist for Gil."

She slowly nodded her head as she remembered some of the sessions that she had been through after her mother had murdered her father.

"He's going to need it soon, Sara." He continued. "He's obviously depressed and showing a strong self-hatred. I fear that it won't take much to send him over the edge to becoming suicidal… if he isn't already."

The end of his statement sent shivers running through her as it presented her imagination with many images. Al didn't miss her reaction and pulled her into a gentle hug.

"We're all here for you." He said softly, while trying to maintain an even tone. "Both of you."

Neither Jim nor Sara missed the single tear in the older man's eye as he climbed into his car and drove away.

A black Denali pulled up and the three CSI's inside waved to Al as they passed and he returned the gesture. Nick drove the truck into the empty spot and shut off the engine.

"Good morning." Nick said as he climbed out of the drivers seat.

"Hey." Sara greeted.

Warrick and Catherine walked around the SUV and joined them.

"Hey girl, how you doing?" Warrick asked.

"Okay."

"How's Gil?" Concern was evident on Catherine's face.

"Not good. Doc Robbins did his exam a little while ago and said he was healing fine, but mentally and emotionally…" She trailed off and wiped a tear from her eye as her voice was reduced to a whisper and more tears threatened. "He's… so broken… and I feel so helpless to help him."

"Hey," Warrick said softly as he wrapped his long arms around her and she thankfully returned the gesture. "We're gonna get him through this. We're all gonna get through this."

He held her for a minute more as she calmed back down and the others silently waited. When she was ready she stepped back and after thanking Warrick she blew her nose on the handkerchief that Jim had offered her.

"Thanks." She smirked as she held it out to him. "You want it back?"

"That's okay." He looked disgusted but chuckled. "It's your snot rag now, sister."

"Ewww." Nick and Catherine said at the same time.

"Greg didn't feel like coming?" Sara asked, wanting to change the subject.

"No… he, um…" Nick started.

"He's taking this pretty hard." Warrick finished.

Sara looked between her friends for clarification and it was Catherine who offered it.

"He still blames himself for what happened to Gil."

"Did you tell him that it's not his fault?"

"Many times." The older woman nodded.

"Yeah… he's been spending what little time he's allowed to spend at the lab in Grissom's office." Nick interjected. "Taking care of his bugs and cleaning up and stuff."

"Yeah, Griss will be surprised when he gets back." Warrick chorused, trying to be optimistic. "Greggo filed all that paperwork on his desk."

"How's the case going?" Sara asked after a long pause.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, but after a long moment they began to tell her of the new evidence. Sara listened quietly as they explained the blood and semen evidence and the torture devices. When, lastly, they told her of the broken video camera she steeled herself and asked about a disc.

"Yeah, there was an intact video chip." Nick answered.

"What was on it?"

Nobody wanted to tell her, but they all knew that they couldn't just lie to her and that she deserved to know.

"Ecklie didn't want to give it to any of the AV guys to analyze," Nick stalled. "And he didn't think that he would be able to do it after watching the first one…"

Sara didn't like that they were reluctant to answer her question and she turned to Warrick.

"Who analyzed the tape?"

"Me and Nick." He answered after a long beat. " The first video on the chip… O'Tool…" Tears formed in both men's eyes. "Made him beg."

"Beg for what?" Fear gripped her heart and breathing became a struggle.

"O'Tool made Griss beg to suck his…" Nick trailed off again then continued. "To end the pain."

It took them all several minutes to process what had been said and then the two men told them about the second video containing Gil's whipping.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**I Never Should Have Let You Slip Through My Arms**

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**As The Sun Sets Tonight, I'll Hold You With All That I Am**

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**I Never Should Have Let You Slip Through My Arms**

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**Promise Me, You'd Stay With Me Forever**

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**Forgive Me For Running So Quickly To The Outside**

**I Never Should Have Let You Go**

**_____________________________________________________________________________________**

Reggie Shelling sat in the small, dimly lit motel room. Two hours ago he had tried to contact his brother, John, at the state prison only to be told of his murder by his cell mate. In his right hand he cradled a small glass of whiskey and in his left hand he held a picture of he and his younger brother that he had pulled out of the shoe box that sat on the table top in front of him. He downed the shot and poured another, quickly throwing that one back too.

He could remember when his mother had brought John home from the hospital. He had only been five but he remembered his mother placing the tiny baby boy in his arms for the first time and being so awestruck by the little life that he cradled.

"Do we get to keep this one, mama?" He looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

Her previous pregnancy had miscarried when her husband, Mitchell, had gone into a fit of rage and kicked her down the stairs. She cried out in pain with each step that she hit and when she finally landed on the floor below she had just enough strength left in her to lift her head and see little Reggie standing in the doorway, tears of fear streaming down his face.

"Yes, honey, we get to keep him." "What's his name, mama?" "His name is John."

"John." He said with wonder.

Reggie had prayed every night that God would give him a little brother. Someone that he could share his secrets with. Someone that he could cry in front of when daddy hurt him.

He never questioned that his mother loved him, but she always told him that he wasn't supposed to cry. Daddy didn't like it when he cried. It made daddy more angry. So when daddy hurt him, or worse when daddy touched him, he would squeeze his eyes shut and pretend he was somewhere else, just like mama said to do. As he looked at his baby brother that day he vowed that he would protect him from daddy any way he could.

Reggie poured himself another shot and pulled another picture out of the box. He remembered the bed that he and John shared until he graduated from high school and his father kicked him out after informing him that he wasn't his problem anymore. The two brothers would lay in bed and listen to their parents fight. Eventually the arguing would end with their father slapping their mother several times or throwing her on the bed and brutalizing her before rolling off and falling into a deep, satisfied sleep. Then they would listen, trembling in each others arms, as their mother cried herself to sleep.

Reggie had been true to his word. Many times he had gotten between John and their father. Whether it be beatings when he went into a rage or touching when he'd had too many drinks. He couldn't save his brother every time though. He remembered being chained to the radiator and gagged with a dirty sock one time when he had tried to intervene. John had also been gagged and thrown face first onto the bed. Reggie's screams couldn't make it passed the lump in his throat and tears flowed from his eyes as he watched their father brutalize his beloved brother. He tossed back the shot of whiskey, hoping it would drown out John's screams of pain that he still heard now, twenty years later.

He had tried to convince John not to marry the woman that he claimed to be in love with. John was desperate to wipe away the shame that their father had instilled in him. Desperate to wipe away the title of 'faggot ' that their father had endeared him with he decided to buy the woman at the end of the bar a drink and it had been the beginning of his ruin. Reggie had seen it a mile away and had tried, on several occasions, to convince his brother that he was making the wrong decision. John was too desperate to hear the wisdom of his older brother and married Margie anyway. Several short years later she had spent all of his money, slept with all of his 'friends', berated him constantly and had given him three daughters that were no different from their mother. Reggie had given up on his brother and stepped back in aggravation, for the first time in all their years, and left his brother to his own destruction. Which had happened and Reggie could never forgive himself for it.

He fondled the handle of the eight inch bowie knife beside him and gripped it with all of his strength. Gilbert Grissom may have gotten away this time, but he was no invisible man. Reggie had been patient for the past two years and he could be patient a little while longer. He brought the knife down on the table, stabbing it through Gil's face on the picture in front of him and pinned it to the wooden surface.

"Mark my words, Grissom." His tone was bitter and his words were coated with venom. "You will pay for what you did to my brother."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They had come to see Gil but thought maybe they shouldn't after hearing his demands to be left alone. Sara had insisted that they come up, at least for a few minutes, so he could see that they cared and supported him.

When they walked through the door to his room they were surprised to see that he was no longer laying in his bed. He sat in front of the large window, his back to them, looking at the city but not seeing it.

"Feeling better, honey?" Sara asked hopefully as they came to a stop inside the door.

"I h-heard y-you." His voice was thick with emotion.

"What are you talking about?" She replied cautiously.

"I h-heard J-J-Jim a-and A-Al. Y-You g-g-guys w-watched m-me…" His voice trailed off for a moment before it had a chance to break. "W-Watched m-me d-d-do it."

Sara looked at Jim fearfully and he shook his head in disbelief. She looked at the other, hoping for a little help, but everyone of them looked and felt like they had been caught in a dirty act and none of them knew what to say.

She had never been able to lie to him, he had always been able to see right through her and she was afraid that it would damage him even more if she tried. She hated the thought of telling him the truth but she knew they could never start the healing process if they were not going to be honest and he needed to know that it didn't matter that they had watched, because they loved him and they cared about him and they were going to help him get through this. She was in inner turmoil when she answered.

"Yes…" She began reluctantly and almost stopped when she saw him stiffen. "Jim was sent a disc by one of your kidnappers… we didn't know what it was until we watched it."

"Who w-w-watched it?" He was barely able to keep himself from going over the edge.

"Jim and the team." Her voice was barely above a whisper and she stood in fear of his reaction.

The thought of his closest friends watching his worst shame destroyed what little desire of life that was left in him. They would never look at him the same again, not after watching him do those things. They would never respect him again. They would always be nice because he was the boss but talk secretly behind his back. Now it was just pity and that was something he did not want. He would not be a charity case. A burden. He would be sure of that. He was alone now, that much he was sure of, and the sudden feeling of complete hopelessness fell so heavily on him that it was like a giant rock slowly crushing him and he felt like he was lost in total darkness.

He didn't feel Sara's arms wrap around him as he buried his face in his hands and wailed his despair. He didn't hear her tell him that it wasn't his fault, what had been done to him. He didn't hear her say that they all loved him and wanted to help him get through this. He didn't feel their many hands on him, lowering him to the floor as his body was taken by another grand mal seizure. All he felt was his dark despair and his need for the end.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The next two days were a blur to Gil. Tests were run. Evaluations were made. Exams were performed. Prescriptions were written. He was given pills for his pain, pills to make him go to the bathroom, pills to make him sleep, pills to chase the darkness away and pills to keep him from thrashing on the floor.

The first day that Al had examined Gil he developed shakiness in his hands that had not left him. The following day his symptoms had worsened when he lost his equilibrium and began having dizzy spells. Then they gave him pills to make the world stop spinning. The combination of his ailments made even the simplest of tasks impossible for him to perform on his own.

Although he had no appetite it was insisted that he eat and he complied with little care to do otherwise. He had not realized the total effectiveness of his symptoms until he tried to eat the chicken and rice soup that had been brought in to him for lunch. His shaky hands caused him to spill the soup down the front of his hospital gown before it even reached his mouth and the dizziness kicked in the more agitated he became and the spinning in his head made it impossible for him to properly aim. He drove the spoon into his chin…nose… and cheek before he slammed the utensil down on the tray in frustration.

Sara and Jim had been sitting at his bedside, eating their own lunch and trying to engage him in light conversation. They had taken notice of his struggle but said and did nothing. Doctor Kitts had met with Sara and Jim that morning and discussed his brain injury and possible side effects. When it came to his shakiness and the possible loss of his motor skills, which had not happened yet, she explained that if it happened they would have to be patient with him and not just take over and do things for him. It was important that he be allowed to maintain independence and dignity as much as possible. They would have to explain to him that it was okay if he made a mess, messes were cleanable, and by all means they should try not to be exasperated or annoyed and try not to make comments or gestures that would make him feel any worse about himself than he already did.

Gil looked down at his tightly clenched fists as anger boiled deep inside of him. He was losing everything, and now he couldn't even feed himself. With a swipe of his arm he sent the tray crashing to the floor, spilling soup and milk on its speckled surface. Jim and Sara jumped up from their seats, taken by surprise by his reaction and the fact that they were almost hit by the tray of food. With great force he pushed the table away, causing Jim to have to deflect it, and it too crashed to the floor with a loud noise.

"Gil, stop it!" Jim's voice was warning but he was deeply concerned by his friends reaction.

Gil threw the covers away and tried to jump out of the bed. His left foot hit the floor first and the vibrations ran up his leg sending sharp pain through his knee. He winced as he dropped to the floor and Jim and Sara ran around the bed to help him. When he felt their hands on him he fought them.

"G-G-Get a-away f-f-from m-me!" He screamed. "D-D-Don't t-t-touch m-me!"

Sara ignored his demands as she knelt behind him and pulled him onto her lap. She held him close to her chest as he thrashed in her arms, trying to get loose. Jim grabbed his flailing limbs and held him still.

"Stop it, Gil. You're going to have another seizure." Jim warned.

"I d-d-don't c-care!"

"Maybe you don't but we do."

Gil stopped and looked up at the other man.

"We care about you, Gil." Jim reassured.

He looked up at Sara and she was surprised that he held eye contact on his own.

"We all care about you and we want to help you." She agreed and he looked at Jim then back to her again.

"W-What a-ab-b-bout w-what I d-d-did?" He was fearful of her reply.

"You did nothing wrong. They forced you to do those things and if you think it's because you didn't say no then you're wrong. We still love you, Gil. I still love you." Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. "And I'm not going to let you give up on yourself. Do you understand? We're all going to get through this, together."

Gil looked away as tears began to form in his own eyes but he quickly looked back up at her.

"P-P-Promise?" She hated the insecurity that was so evident in his voice.

"I promise, baby. I will never give up on you. Neither will Jim or the team."

Gil reluctantly looked up at Jim and saw the tears in his friends eyes.

"I'm not letting you go, pal." Jim released his arms and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gil looked away from them and nodded his head.

"I'm s-s-sorry." He felt a new sense of shame at not trusting his loved ones.

"Don't be." Sara smiled and they helped him get off the floor and back into bed.

After covering him back up she cupped his face with her hands and looked deep into his blue eyes. She felt a renewed devotion to this man who had sacrificed himself to save one of their own.

"I love you, Gil. May I kiss you?"

He wanted to kiss her, but he was scared to. He reluctantly nodded his head and she slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When she pulled away he knew that she had meant every word that she had said.

She took the wash cloth that Jim had gotten for her from the bathroom and gently washed his face with it. Then, with Jim's help, she carefully removed his hospital gown and replaced it with a clean one.

"Shall we try again?" Sara asked as she held up the dish of pasta that she had brought for her own lunch and he looked at her reluctantly. "Don't worry, I'll help you until the shakes go away. Okay?"

He still wasn't sure about this but nodded anyway. She put the fork in his hand then gently, but firmly wrapped her hand around his. She guided him to stab a piece of the ziti then guided the fork into his mouth.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: This to all of you that write or are thinking about writing. Do not let people discourage you from what you love or from attempting to try it. I love writing. I've been doing it since I was a little kid and have found that it is the perfect outlet for me. Creative or otherwise.

When I hit a deer back in October and was already stressed to the max at that point from moving and working three weeks straight without a day off I sat down and wrote about it that night. It was a tremendous help. My point is when you find something that you love to do don't let others discourage you from it. I was told that because I am not publishing this story for money it wasn't worth writing and was a waste of my time. I informed him that it wasn't about the money. The money didn't matter. It's about doing what you love and I love to write. Then when I realized just how pissed off that made me. I told him I was a goddamn good writer and that I was writing a fucking good story because there were plenty of people that had told me so! (Phew, that felt good.)

Sorry if that sounds conceded but at the moment that was what I needed. To have confidence in myself as a writer and what I wrote and believe me, you guys have given it to me. He felt like crap and what was said was amended, which is important to me because he's my brother and I value what he thinks of me.

So my point is, don't let others, no matter who they are, discourage you from what you love to do. Peace out. -Esther


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Okay, this may sound silly, but after I had to delete my story and repost it at the same time I lost all of my reviews. I started saving them in my email. I accidentally spammed someone and I do not know who it was. Anyways, moving on. You guys have all been really supportive over this whole time and I thank you. You guys are totally awesome!

I do not believe in coincidences and I'm not sure about premonitions, but congratulations to Misanthrope for being the only one to make the connection between Shelling's knife and Sara's dream. You go girl!!!

Also, people may think that I am 'Gay Bashing' in this story. That is not true. It is a common issue with heterosexual, male victims to become confused of their sexual orientation after being raped. Most even begin to exhibit a hatred towards gay men or homophobia. It is natural when you think about it, but most times their friends and family just don't understand and tend to ridicule them for it or accuse them of being paranoid.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Fifteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Just relax and take your time, okay, Gil?" Jim spoke gently from where he sat next to Gil's bed.

Sara sat next to him, holding Gil's hand and bearing up against the death grip he had on her. As much as Gil hated the thought of talking about it he knew he that he was going to have to give his statement.

So, as he began to tell his heart-wrenching story, he kept his eyes down on the portion of blanket that he compulsively picked at. When it came time for him to tell about his forced oral sex he let go of Sara's hand and compulsively began rubbing his right thigh.

"Th-They p-p-pushed m-me t-to m-my kn-knees." His voice began to break and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "An' he g-g-grabbed m-my hair."

"Who grabbed your hair, Gil?" Jim quietly interrupted.

"Th-The b-b-bald one."

"Denalgio." Jim nodded his confirmation.

"D-D-Didin't t-t-tell m-me his n-name. Exc-cept Sh-Shelling's."

"Was Shelling the leader, Gil?" Gil nodded his head. "What did he say to you?"

Jim made a few more notes as Gil told him about Shelling's brother and his thirst for revenge. Gil seemed to become less agitated when he spoke about the incarcerated brother but Jim knew Gil's demeanor would change again.

"Gil, let's get back to where Denalgio grabbed your hair."

Gil inhaled a shuddering breath against the lump that retook its pace in his throat and continued.

"Th-Then he p-p-put his…" Gil could not bring himself to call it by any name. "In m-my m-mouth." Gil increased the pressure behind the rubbing of his thigh and began to subconsciously rock back and forth. "An he f-forced m-my head b-b-back an' f-forth an' I k-k-kept g-g-gagging an' he s-said th-that if I th-threw up on him I w-would b-b-be s-sucking one of th-those p-p-permanently." The more he spoke the closer to tears he became.

When he finally reached the point of being forced over the table the first time the dam burst and tears flowed down his cheeks. As he began telling of his first penetration he lost control. He buried his face in his hands and cried uncontrollably as his body shook hard with each sob.

"I… n-never…s-said… n-no!" He cried bitterly between sobs.

Sara pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, as though if she loosened her grip he would be taken away from her. Jim looked away and wiped the tears from his own eyes.

"I… j-j-just… l-let… th-them…d-d-do it… t-to m-me."

"It's not your fault, Gil." Sara tried to reassure as she joined him with her own tears. "They forced you and at that point you were too shocked to resist them."

"B-B-But… I d-d-didn't… say… st-st-stop!" He argued

"It doesn't matter, Gil." She gently lifted his chin with her cupped hand. "Look at me, Gil." He lifted his tear-soaked eyes to meet hers. "They kidnapped you. They restrained you. Theyraped you. Just because you didn't say stop does not mean that it was consensual. Do you understand?" He nodded and she shook her head as she gently said. "Say it, Gil."

"I und-d-derst-st-stand."

He spoke the words to appease her but was not sure that he believed what she had said. He was a man, or at least he used to be. He should have been able to fight them off. He should have been able to get away. He should have been able to do something.

Instead, He thought bitterly. I sat on my knees and let them fuck me in the mouth. Then I stretched over that table and let them fuck me in the ass. I know I liked it. I never would have gotten hard if I didn't.

He continued to sit on the bed, rubbing his thigh as his agitation grew. He had broken from Sara's grasp and lowered his head again, his eye's tightly closed and slowly shaking his head back and forth as he convinced himself that it didn't matter what she tried to say to make him feel better. He knew what he did, she didn't. Now, everything he'd once had with her would be nothing but memories. He wished that it would all just end.

"Gil?" Jim called softly, not wanting to disturb his friend any further. "Do you feel like continuing?"

"N-No. I'm t-t-tired an' I w-want t-t-to b-b-be l-left al-lone."

"Okay, we can finish later." Jim said as he rose and looked at Sara.

"Do you want me to leave too, Gil?" She asked, trying to keep the hurt and sadness out of her voice.

He nodded his head several times and she bent down and kissed the top of his head before joining Jim at the door.

"J-J-Jim?" Gil asked in a scared and broken voice as he looked out the window and not at his friend.

"Yeah, Gil?" Jim turned back to look at him.

"I d-d-don't w-want ev-veryone t-t-o kn-know." He turned his pleading eyes to the detective. "P-P-Please."

"I promise you , Gil." He stepped back over to the bedside. "The only ones that I will tell any of this to are those who are working on your case and need to know. I promise."

Gil did not respond, only looked back out the window and waited for them to leave. After they shut the door behind them he squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the blanket covering his legs in his fists as the words of Michael O'Tool swam in his head.

_"You liked it, you faggot." Michael said viciously as he pulled up his pants._

_Gil sat on the floor in front of him with Michael's cum dribbling down his chin. His own hot, sticky cum had squirted up on his belly when he climaxed in his captor's hand._

"I'm not a faggot. I'm not a faggot." Gil desperately whispered, trying to convince himself. With tears beginning to fall again, he began to rock back and forth and adopted it as his mantra. "I'm not a faggot. I'm not a faggot."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil was antsy. As he sat with his injured left leg stretched out on the bed and his right leg bounced up and down subconsciously on the floor. He awaited the routine visit from Doctor Diller and eagerly hoped that he would be able to go home today.

Doctor Diller entered the room quietly and with a warm smile on his face.

"Good morning, Gil." He said as he calmly approached the foot of the bed. "Good morning, Sara."

Gil said nothing, but looked down at his lap and increased his grip on Sara's hand. She could sense him trembling beyond his shaking hand and tightened her own grip.

"Good morning, Doctor Diller." She smiled cheerfully.

He offered a friendly nod and pulled the second chair that was against the wall over to the bed and sat down so he could look at both of them.

"How are you feeling today, Gil?" He asked him directly.

Gil looked at Sara, uncertainty showing in his eyes, and subconsciously tried to scoot back on the bed a little. He kept his eyes downcast and tried not to breath so hard.

"I need to know how you're feeling, Gil, before I can discharge you." Diller tried again.

Gil's hopes rose and he looked up at Diller for a moment before looking back down at the bed.

"I f-feel ok-kay."

Sara was relieved when his grip relaxed somewhat. Diller noticed his patient ease a little and smiled softly as he opened the file in his hand. He took a last look at something in the folder before closing it again and turning his full attention to the couple before him.

"All of your blood tests came back clear. No HIV and no STD's, which is very good news, Gil." Diller said. "All of your scans and exams came back fine as well and it looks like your body is well on the road to healing. And I'm sure that you would be much more comfortable resting at home than here."

Diller noticed that the word 'home' seemed to resonate with Gil and he tried to use it as often as possible.

"I want you to take it easy when you get home, okay? For the next few weeks no strenuous exercise or activities, okay?" He kept a calm voice and waited for Gil to nod before continuing. "Keep your leg elevated, be easy on your stitches and keep your wounds clean, okay?" Gil nodded. "The nurse will give you a packet with all the information on what you will need to do while at home and some bandages for tonight."

Before leaving Diller pulled a piece of paper and a business card from his file folder and passed them to Sara.

"Gil, I'm giving Sara some information on therapists here in Vegas that specialize in the field of rape trauma. You have a long road ahead of you, my friend and I want you to know that there is help out there for you, people who understand and who will listen, and you are not alone, Gil."

While Diller's demeanor and voice were soothing , Gil never looked up at the man. Sara could feel his grip tighten and Diller noticed him become more uneasy.

"Sara," He continued. "There is a list of six therapists there. Both men and women, I wasn't sure which Gil would prefer."

"Thank you." She said earnestly. "And the business card?"

"Yeah." Diller let out a long sigh before continuing. "Gil, Stacey Tolliver is a friend of mine. He has been in the field for a long time and has helped many men who have been raped to put it behind them and move on with their lives." The doctor looked out the window for a moment before turning back to them. "My youngest son is twenty-two and three years ago… he was raped his college dorm room. Stacey was a tremendous help to Kyle."

Gil felt awkward and uncomfortable with this revealed family secret and wished that the doctor would leave. Diller sensed Gil's desire and took it as his cue to go.

"Sara, I know you will take care of him and I hope you will look on the back of the business card." He shook Sara's hand and waved at Gil, knowing the outstretched hand would only make his patient feel even more uncomfortable. "Good luck, Gil. I'll see you and Sara in two weeks for a check up, okay?"

When Diller left Gil quickly let go of Sara's hand and was ready to get dressed. Sara stood to get Gil's clothes but stopped and looked at the back of the business card.

Sara, Stacey works family members of rape victims as well. You're a strong woman, but you will need help too. Please consider it. Sincerely, Paul Diller.

Sara put the card in her pocket and took a moment to compose herself before returning to Gil. She helped him into his baggiest sweat pants and a loose, button up shirt. He still did not wear underwear, because of the bandages between his legs, and despite the fact that he hadn't all week it still left him feeling exposed. She had dressed his feet for him and now patiently waited for the nurse to bring him his discharge papers. Gil, on the other hand, continued to fidget.

When the young nurse finally walked into the room, pushing a wheel chair. She pulled it to a stop and handed Gil a clip board and pen.

"Here you go, Mister Grissom, I just need you to sign this and we'll have you on your way."

Gil took the clip board in his shaking hands and looked at it for a long moment. Then he finally took the pen from the top of the board and began to scrawl his name. As he scribbled the first G he stopped and looked up at Sara, embarrassed. It was a complete mess.

"It's okay." She smiled warmly as she sat on the bed next to him and covered his hand with her own. She steadied his hand through the ritual, but was careful not to guide him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Nick pulled his truck to a stop in front of the hospital and let Jim out.

"Thanks, Nicky." The older man said as he shut the door.

"No problem, Jim." Nick called through the open window. "Tell Sara that I'll call her later?"

"Will do, Nick." They waved goodbye to each other.

As Jim walked into the lobby he greeted Sara and Gil with a wide grin.

"Hi, pal. Finally breaking out of this joint, huh?"

"Hi, Jim. What are you doing here?" Sara smiled.

"Hey, doll. I just wanted to be here on the big day when Gil finally gets to go home." He smiled at her as he remembered how happy he was when he was discharged after being shot, then looked back to Gil. "How about, buddy, you got a hello for your old friend Jim?"

Gil was hesitant to talk. When he stuttered it frustrated and embarrassed him, but he remembered what Jim had said the day before and forced himself to look up at his friend.

"Hi, J-J-Jim." Gil forced a smile but Jim took notice that it didn't reach his eyes and Gil quickly looked back down at his feet.

The nurse pushed Gil in his wheel chair out the front door and to Sara's waiting car. They helped him into the passengers seat and Jim climbed into the back behind Gil and after Sara put Gil's things in the back seat she climbed behind the wheel.

It was a quiet drive and a beautiful, sunny Las Vegas afternoon. As Sara drove towards their townhouse she looked over at Gil. He seemed to be enjoying the ride as he watched the many things that they passed. Although he showed no expression she felt a serenity about him and she knew that getting him out of the hospital, which housed so much death and despair, would do him a great deal of good. She noticed that he was fumbling with the window switch and she lowered his window using her controls on the drivers side. He rested his back against the seat and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face.

When they finally arrived home Sara pulled the car into the garage. She unbuckled her own seat belt and then Gil's and got out of the car. Jim climbed out of the back seat and opened Gil's door with a smile.

"Home sweet, home, pal."

Gil carefully turned in his seat and put one of his shaking hands into Jim's out stretched steady one. Jim pulled Gil to his feet and let him rest against the side of the car as he shut the door. With his equilibrium out of balance he had to rely on both Jim and Sara, one on either side, to help him up the stairs and into the house.

Hank had heard them coming a mile away and now the brown and white boxer eagerly waited for them on the other side of the door. Sara had forgotten about Hank. The sitter had dropped him off the day before, explaining that she was going to her mothers for a week and needed Sara to take the dog back. Sara thanked her for her help and being so kind for watching their boy.

Sara and Jim were too busy talking Gil up each step and encouraging him that they were almost done to take notice of the whining dog in the house, but Gil heard him. He was half exhausted by the time they reached the top step but his energy was renewed a little when he heard his boy anxiously waiting on the other side. Once they reached the landing Sara fumbled her keys into the lock and opened the door, but it was too late when she realized what she had released. All she saw was a flash of brown as Hank bolted through the door and jumped up on Gil, almost knocking him back down the stairs. Jim grabbed Gil's jacket just as he started to fall backward and felt like he had saved the day. He took a deep breath to replace the one that he'd had to release in a long sigh. He was about to give the dog an old fashioned tongue lashing, but stopped himself when he saw the ear to ear grin on Gil's face.

Gil's shaking hands were scratching Hank's ears and because of his lack of motor skill he wasn't doing a very effective job. Hank, being the good natured and loving companion that he was, did not seem to take notice of the lousy job that his master was doing. He was just happy to see his best friend who had been gone far too long.

"Hey, b-b-boy." Gil stuttered, his smile never faltering.

Both Sara and Jim had to join in and smile. They hadn't seen him this happy since before his kidnapping.

"Well, Hank," Jim laughed. "Looks like you've just been designated an official therapy dog."

After licking Gil's face repeatedly Hank was kindly told to get down and they slowly walked into the kitchen.

They carefully made their way over to the table and helped him to ease down onto one of the dining chairs. Hank sat down next to Gil and rested his head on his master's leg, content to just be at his side. Gil's breathing was labored and small beads of sweat had broken out on his brow. Sara didn't miss the look of tiredness and pain on his face.

"Do you want some water, honey?" She asked him and he nodded his head.

"C-C-Can I have m-my p-p-pills?" He stuttered.

"It's too soon, babe." She quietly replied as she set a half full glass of water on the table in front of him.

He reached for the glass with one shaking hand then thought better for it and grabbed it with both. The water splashed back and forth in the glass as he lifted it to his mouth. He tipped his head back too far and the water splashed up his nose and he began to choke. The glass slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor, sending water and shards of glass flying in all directions.

_His entire body shook with fear as Shelling stood in front of him, grabbing his hair and violently yanking his head back. He forced the bottle of water into Gil's mouth and Gil choked as the liquid went down the wrong way._

Sara patted him on the back as he coughed convulsively. "You okay?" She asked

He couldn't stop his body from shaking and he tightly closed his eyes and hugged himself as he began rocking back and forth. Sara put her hand on his shoulder, startling him.

"I'm s-sorry, s-sir." His voice pleaded. "P-P-Please d-d-don't hurt m-me an-nym-more, s-sir." He panted for air as his fear choked him. "I c-c-can't t-take an-nym-more p-p-pain."

Sara exchanged a horrified look with Jim and dropped to her knees in front of Gil.

"Gil." She cupped his face with her hands, but he continued rock and would not look at her. "Gil, it's me, Sara."

His eyes opened and he looked down at her. It took him a moment to recognize her and when he did he began to cry.

"It's okay. You're safe." She stroked the sides of his face with her thumbs. "No one is going to hurt you here. We're here and are going to protect you."

His tears streamed down his face and his sobs came hard. She hugged him tightly and he buried his face in the crook of her neck and she soothingly rubbed his back with one hand and cradled his head with the other.

When he had calmed back down she let him go as he reluctantly pulled away.

"I'm s-s-sorry." He looked down at the mess and felt embarrassed by his outburst.

"Don't you ever apologize for that, okay?" She said gently. "These memories are going to come back, you can't help that, and messes are cleanable. Okay?" He nodded.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara had humorously banished the two men to the living room after cleaning up the mess on the floor, which Jim had helped her with, and decided to start dinner. Jim had offered to help her, but she joked about his likeliness for disaster in the kitchen and helped him guide Gil into the living room. Gil straddled a dining chair that Jim had dragged along and Sara put a pillow between him in the back of the chair so as not to aggravate his chest and stomach wounds.

The two men sat quietly and watched the evening news. To Jim it was the comfortable silence of two friends, but when he looked over at Gil he began to get bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Gil was looking at the screen, but Jim was sure, by the distant look in his eyes that he wasn't watching TV. Then his expression changed all together. His eye lids twitched, ever so slightly as the look changed from one of haunted distance to one that Jim could only describe as one of malice and pure hatred. Jim began to feel very uneasy and was startled by Sara's sudden appearance beside him.

"You guys ready to eat?" She asked cheerfully.

Jim looked up at her and for the first time noticed the strong smell of Italian food wafting from the kitchen. He looked back at Gil who was nodding and noted that his eyes had lost the look that made him feel like he was in a horror movie.

They helped Gil out to the table and Sara served each of them a healthy portion of pasta and sauce, salad and garlic bread. She steadied Gil's hand with her own as he stabbed two pieces of pasta and brought it up to his mouth. When the food was safely being chewed she turned to her own plate and ate some of her dinner.

Gil really wasn't all that hungry, but he knew that Sara would not let him skip meals. The food _did_ taste good, but he had a nauseous feeling that had not left him since Al had examined him for the first time. Jim didn't stare at them as she helped Gil with his food. He had quickly grown used to seeing Sara do this and had even done it two times himself.

Half way through the meal the phone rang.

"Oh, that's probably Nick." Jim said, remembering their earlier talk when the younger man dropped him off at the hospital. "He said he would call you."

She excused herself and went into the other room to answer the phone. It was Nick and he kept the conversation short, knowing that he had interrupted their dinner and was wondering if a visit sometime would be okay. An idea that she whole-heartedly agreed with.

When she returned she stopped in the doorway and covered her mouth with her hands to keep from laughing. Gil sat with his hands in his lap and a look of mock annoyance on his face, but she was greatly pleased to see the slight twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth, even if it didn't reach his eyes it was something. Jim sat, holding a fork full of food out in front of Gil's face.

"Come on, Gil." He was saying. "You won't win. I used to have to do this with Ellie all the time when she was a baby." Then, in his best baby voice he said. "Now open up da hanga for da airpane."

Then, as he made buzzing noises with his mouth, he sent the fork into semi-glamorous dives and swoops. Sara might have been just a little upset with him if Gil hadn't started laughing and opened his mouth to take the bite. She laughed too, drawing their attention, and sat back down at the table. Gil swallowed his food then looked at Jim.

"P-P-Pain in th-the ass." He smiled.

"Oh, you think so?" Jim asked with an amused smile of his own and Gil nodded, almost happily.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Sorry that it has taken me so long to get this out but I needed a short break and life got in the way. I just want to give a big thank you to all of my readers. You guys have been totally awesome and supportive and very encouraging and some of you have been really helpful. Although other ideas are coming along I promise that nothing will get in the way of this story. Face the Music is my baby and my debut and she will **_NOT_ **be abandoned. Peace out. -Esther


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to One Blood by Terence Jay. But I sure will use 'em  You can find the video for this song YouTube. I highly recommend it.

Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of sexual abuse.

A/N: It is not my desire to rehash in this chapter, but to show the after effects.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Sixteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

They decided to spend a quiet evening relaxing and watching an old movie. Gil didn't care what he did; he complied without argument. So Sara suggested one of Gil's favorite comedies, hoping to encourage the good mood that Jim seemed to have started, and Jim agreed wholeheartedly. She put in the Charlie Chaplin silent film and slipped into the kitchen to make popcorn while the movie began. Gil had returned to the dining chair he had used before dinner, though no one had spoken about seating arrangements. Both Sara and Jim hoped he had done so out of preference, not out of obedience.

When Sara returned with popcorn she held out a bowl to him.

"Would you like some popcorn, Gil?"

He looked at the bowl, then up at her. Confusion flitted across his face and he silently implored her to give him the answer.

"Do you want popcorn?" She patiently asked again.

He continued to look confused then slowly shrugged a shoulder.

"I, d-d-don't kn-know." He said with conviction.

She didn't want to choose for him, but she knew that he had always enjoyed popcorn during movies in the past so she held the bowl out to him from where she sat on the end of the couch next to him. Still unable to decide he sat and stared at the bowl for a long time, then his nausea decided for him. He silently turned back to the movie and set himself to ignore any further attempts.

Although he never took his eyes off the screen she could see from where she was sitting that he was not watching the movie. His eyes were blank and he looked like he was staring into a distance. She noticed that he was rhythmically taping his knee with his hand and stopped after about a minute. Shortly afterward he timidly looked over to where Sara sat on the couch.

"S-S-Sara?" He spoke in a hesitant voice.

"Gil?" She smiled as she looked over at him, but the smile faded when she saw he was looking at her knees and not her face.

"C-C-Can I g-go t-to b-b-bed?" His cheeks burned with color.

"Of course you can, Gil." She was surprised by his apparent need for permission. "You don't have to ask for permission to do anything here, okay?"

He nodded and felt more embarrassed and angry with himself.

Just as she was getting up from the couch the phone rang and she plopped herself back down. She smiled at him and rolled her eyes in a silly fashion.

"Hello?" She said into the receiver.

"Hi, Sara?"

"Hey, Cath. How's it going?"

"Okay. Could be better. That's actually why I called, but first things first. How's Gil?"

"Um… he's okay."

"How 'bout you?" Catherine hadn't missed the hesitation in her friend's voice.

"I'm okay too."

"You want to talk about it?" On the other end of the line Catherine smiled sadly for her friends.

"Maybe later." Sara wanted to change the subject. "What can I do for you?"

"We got hit pretty hard tonight. I_ don't_ want to take you away from Gil, but I was wondering if there might be any way that you could come in for a few hours tonight?"

Sara could almost see Catherine cringing at having to ask the question, but they were three CSI's short and that was hard enough on a regular night. She knew Catherine wouldn't ask if they were not in bad need. She put her hand over the receiver to explain the situation to Gil and Jim.

"They were hit hard at the lab tonight." She noticed Gil was lost in his own world again. "And Cath is asking if I would work a few hours tonight."

"Well, I'm here tonight anyways. Gil and I'll be fine." Jim replied with a reassuring nod of his head and Sara turned back to the phone.

"Yeah, I'll be in. Gil's ready for bed so I need to change his bandages and get him settled. I'll be in in an hour or so, okay?"

"I owe you one, Sara, thank you."

After hanging up the phone she and Jim each took a place on either side of Gil and carefully lifted him to his feet. They helped him to the bathroom and guided him to the chair in the corner. Jim kept a hold of Gil's arm while Sara pulled down his sweat pants. After helping him to ease down onto the chair Jim exited the bathroom to give them some privacy. She helped him out his shirt, which caused him to cringe several times. Then gently as possible she began removing the old bandages.

After removing them from his chest, stomach and underarms she inspected the wounds closely. They still looked healthy and like they were properly healing. She filled the sink with warm, soapy water and gently washed each wound then patted each one dry with a clean towel. Gil kept his eye's closed the entire time. Each time she touched one of his lacerations the vivid and painful memory of how he got it flashed into his mind. After applying ointment to each wound she carefully dressed them with fresh bandages that had been given to her at the hospital.

He felt a sudden contraction in his stomach as the laxatives took effect on his dinner and he timidly looked up at Sara.

"I have t-to use th-the t-t-toilet."

"Okay." She simply replied and called Jim back in to help.

Jim quickly entered the bathroom and they made it to the toilet just in time. Although loose it was still painful and he clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. Each stroke of pain he felt forced him to recall how it was originally initialized and he began to shudder as the memories flooded over him.

He jumped when Sara touched his shoulder and cringed away from her.

"It's okay, Gil." She assured him "Are you all done?" He nodded and grabbed blindly for the toilet paper.

His shaking hands and lack of coordination made more of a mess and he had to allow Sara to do the job. She asked him to bend over just a little to allow her easier access to wash him and as he leaned into Jim for support he squeezed his eyes shut. Embarrassment and anger flooded over him, but he choked the emotions down.

_Fifty-two years old and I can't even wipe my own ass._ He thought bitterly.

He was tired of feeling so exposed. He was tired of his friends observing him during his most vulnerable moments. Jim was careful not look. He knew he wouldn't want anyone to look at him if he were in Gil's position and wanted to show his friend the same courtesy. Sara made quick, but gentle, work of the task and they helped him to sit back down on the edge of the chair.

She gently nudged his legs apart and again he squeezed his eyes shut as his face turned red with a renewed sense of shame. She didn't miss his reaction and it made her feel horrible. It wasn't the first time she had nudge his legs apart. But the last time she did so, it was a more pleasant experience for the both of them.

_She remembered him lying beneath her on their king size bed as she slowly slid down his body. His eyes never left hers until she took his full length in her mouth. His head fell back on the pillow and he closed his eyes as he savored every sensation that she created in him._

She wished things would go back to the way they were. She was grateful that she could hold onto the one constant in their lives before his kidnap and rape-her unwavering love for Gil.

Sara called Jim back into the bathroom and they helped him into clean pajamas. After helping him back into the bedroom and sitting him down on the bed she got his evening pills. She put them in his cupped hands and he dropped them in his lap while trying to get them into his mouth. She quickly picked them up and cupped his face with her hand.

"Tip your head back." She gently urged and dropped the pills into his mouth.

She lifted the glass of water to his lips and let him drink all that he wanted before setting the cup down on the nightstand. She helped him to lay down on his left side and pulled up the covers. She knelt beside the bed and ran her fingers though his hair. He shrunk away from her and she sighed sadly and wondered if he would ever feel comfortable under her touch again.

She never doubted that he would be safe with Jim, but she hated to leave him even if just for a few hours.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

He nodded and she kissed him on his forehead. After leaving the room she left the door ajar so that he would not be in total darkness.

"He'll be alright, Sara." Jim said from where he leaned against the wall. He took her by her arms to get her full attention and looked her in the eye. "Hey, do you trust me, Sara?"

"You know it's not that, Jim." Her demeanor softened. "I just don't want to leave him, but they _do_ need me at the lab." He nodded and smiled warmly.

"He'll be fine, Sara. Go to work."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil quietly lay in bed and listened to their hushed conversation. Instead of reading their sincere love for him, his weakened state of mind rationalized that he had become a burden for Sara and Jim.

He fell into a depression as he thought how he couldn't feed himself anymore, they had to help him. They had to help him dress… tie his shoes… clean himself. He couldn't even walk on his own two feet anymore without falling on his face.

Jim could always walk away, but he was afraid that Sara would stay out of obligation. This wasn't the life that she deserved. She deserved so much more and he no longer had to offer her what she deserved.

He began to punch his thigh viciously as doubts flooded his mind and silent tears flooded his eyes. He angrily pounded his thigh with his fist until it was bruised and sore. When he sapped his little remaining energy and he no longer had the strength to punch himself he buried his face in his pillow and muffled the sad cries of pain emanating from his broken heart.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**In the far away fires where the hills forever burn,**

**At the feet of our heroes we try hard to learn.**

**But the lesson is lost there, in the smoke and the mud,**

**That we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood.**

**I stood by the river that ran red with shame,**

**I stood in the killing fields where death had no name**

**I stood with my brothers and awaited the flood**

**And we were one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood**

**Then I fell to the ground, tasted ashes with my tongue.**

**Thinking that only the dead are forever young.**

**There was peace in the twilight, and for a moment or more,**

**It was a world without danger, a world without war.**

**And I would take all of your suffering, if it would do any good.**

**Cause we are one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood.**

**_____________________________________________________________________________________**

As Nick sat in the break room awaiting assignments he rubbed his tired eyes that burned from his past few sleepless days. Catnap's were not enough and his body loudly protested his lack of sleep. He looked down at the steam that spiraled off the top of his coffee and thought back to his trip to the prison a few days prior.

After analyzing the second tape Conrad had asked Nick to accompany him to the prison to interrogate O'Tool. For the sake of Gil's privacy Conrad had asked Nick only because he had already seen the videos and the secret was safe with him.

The gray, starkness of the prison walls couldn't compare to the cold look in Nick's eyes. Never one to hide his feelings, Nick clenched and unclenched his fists frequently as he and Conrad sat behind the stainless steel table waiting for the guards to bring in O'Tool.

"Easy, Stokes." Conrad said in a calm voice.

Nick looked over at his superior and gave a nod of understanding. The CSI wasn't nervous, he was anxious. He was unsure of how he would react when O'Tool walked through the door. After watching what he had done to Gil and forced Gil to do, he wanted to beat the piss out him. Then he remembered the things that Gil had taught him about revenge and wanted to control himself so as not to disappoint or disrespect his mentor. His friend. He closed his eyes as images of Gil flashed through his mind. He cringed when he thought of what Denalgio, Shelling and O'Tool had done to his body.

Conrad watched with a look of concern as Nick lifted his shaking hand to his ear as if to cover it from an offending noise. What Conrad didn't hear was Nick replaying the terrifying soundtrack of what O'Tool had done to Gil.

_"Please, stop!" Gil begged as he writhed under Michael's foot between his legs._

_ "Say it!" Michael demanded again as he pressed his foot down a little further. "Who's bitch are you?"_

_ "I'm your bitch!" He cried out in desperation through his clenched teeth._

_ "Prove it." His words were challenging and cold._

_Nick jumped when Conrad put his hand on the younger man's shoulder._

"You okay, Nick?" He asked gently. "Are you gonna be able to keep it together?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I just… I just can't get his screams out of my head."

"I'm sorry, Nick." Conrad truly felt bad and it showed on his face. "I never should have asked you two to analyze that tape."

"It's not that." Nick shook his head. "Rick and I are glad that you have been letting us help with Gil's case. It's just that…"

Before he could finish what he was going to say the door opened and O'Tool was ushered inside by two guards. He was pushed down onto the chair and one of the guards held him while the other locked his chains to the floor.

Michael had shaved his head on his second day of incarceration, after being ordered to by his cell mate who had become his new Denalgio. The top of his head bore a brand new tattoo as proof of ownership to anyone bold enough to publicly accost him and his left ass cheek bore a fresh brand mark burned into his flesh with a ball point pen on his first night. He squirmed uneasily because of the pain in his ass that was not caused by the ball point pen.

He nervously looked between the two men and felt the uncomfortable tension of their silence as they glared at him. He decided that he would not be pushed around by these cops and put on his best appearance of arrogance and toughness. He had to take it from his cell mate, but cops still had rules and they had probably fired that old fart that had thrown him against the wall. The thought made him smile and boosted his confidence.

"Let's get this party started, shall we?" He said with all the air of smugness about him.

"Shut up." Nick warned, not masking the threat that his voice held.

"Hey, you can't talk to me like that. I have my rights!"

Nick launched himself to his feet, causing the metal chair to tip over with a loud clang, and leaned menacingly over the table. Michael shrunk in his chair.

"You shut your _Goddamn_ mouth!" He raised a finger and pointed it angrily at O'Tool. "In this room, you keep your mouth shut until one of us tells you to open it."

Conrad had wisely kept his seat and stayed silent. Nick's fury was justified and as long as he didn't take it out physically on O'Tool he would not intervene. He would let his young colleague vent his emotions on the appropriate person.

When Nick picked his chair up and sat back down Conrad opened the file folder in front of him and pulled out an array of still photos that had been taken from the video of him and Gil and set them out for the convict to see. Nick's jaw visibly clenched as he struggled to shut out the images that were reappearing in his memory.

Then Nick noticed O'Tool. The prisoners reaction surprised Nick. O'Tool looked at the photos and gulped audibly as he sat back in his chair. He looked down at his restrained hands and silence fell over them.

O'Tool glanced up at the pictures again and looked away in disgust. He had been so angry, but he remembered every sound, every plea for mercy from the old man and he could remember Rubin doing the same thing to him so many years ago.

"Where is Shelling?" Conrad demanded.

"I don't know." Michael quietly replied.

"Where does he hang out?"

Michael shrugged. "I was never allowed to go with them." He pointed timidly at the pictures. "That's when that happened. They went out somewhere and Rubin told me to stay. Like I was a dog or something."

"Save your sob story, pal. No one wants to hear it." Nick said.

"That's the only reason I did it." Michael began to cry as he felt the sudden need to explain himself. "I'm a victim too, you know. I-I was eighteen when I was put in here. My very first night Rubin made me his bitch. He did the same thing to me."

As Nick sat and listened, every fiber of his being wanted to launch itself across the table and strangle the life out of the younger man.

"I-I only did it because I was tired of being pushed around." O'Tool continued, his eyes pleading.

Nick shook his head as he let out a tense breath. He couldn't believe this piece of shit was trying to gain sympathy. He wanted to shout, "Shut the fuck up!" but instead he put his clasped hands on the table and looked O'Tool straight in the eyes.

"You lost your card to the human race when you brutalized Gil Grissom and made him beg to suck your _dick_, just so you would stop hurting him." While his voice was steady his words demonstrated his rage. The room fell silent again as the two investigators awaited the one answer they hoped for from someone who was a dead man walking.

"Last chance, O'Tool. Where is Shelling?"

"I don't know where you can find him." Michael quietly replied and Conrad called for the guards.

The seasoned investigators watched as the young man who had entered with an air of arrogance exited with his shame-filled eyes downcast.

As the two men drove through the cool evening Nick looked out the window, trying to keep his emotions under control until they got back to the lab and he could get away from Ecklie.

"You did good in there, Nick." Conrad's gentle tone startled Nick out of his concentration and he looked at the other man. "Gil would be proud of you for the way you controlled yourself in there."

Surprised by such high words of regard, tears formed in Nick's eyes. He quickly turned back to the window.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara walked into the break room to see Nick sitting at the other end of the table, silently staring at his coffee. She smiled as she walked over to him but he did not notice her.

"Hi, Nick." She said gently, so as not to startle him, and put her hand on his arm.

He looked up at her and smiled as he stood and gave her a hug, which she thankfully returned. He needed someone to hold him-someone who cared.

When he finally released her she leaned back enough to cup his face with her hands and look into his freshly tear-stained eyes.

"How are you doing, Nick?" She smiled sadly at him.

"I'm okay." He lied, but she quirked a knowing eyebrow. "I haven't slept much. I… get to sleep, have a nightmare and… that's the end of it for the day."

She gently caressed his cheek like she would a troubled brother and pulled him back into a hug.

"It'll get better, Nicky. I promise."

Neither of them had seen Catherine and Warrick walk in and they were unaware of their presence until Warrick broke the silence.

"I'm next."

She let go of Nick and smiled at him. He nodded his head to let her know that he was okay and she turned to Warrick.

"How you doin', girl?" He asked in all seriousness as he embraced her.

"I'm okay." She whispered.

When Warrick let her go she gave Catherine an equal hug.

"Sorry that I had to call you in." Catherine apologized.

"It's okay. Jim's there, so I know Gil will be fine." She didn't sound convincing and she knew it.

They all sat down at the table after getting cups of coffee and Catherine started handing out assignments.

"Nick, DB at the Monte Carlo." She passed him a white slip of paper. "Warrick, suspected missing person at McCarran." She passed another slip of paper. "Sara, smash and grab. That's it." She finished as she handed Sara her assignment slip.

"What are you working?" Nick asked as he looked at the assignment slip in Catherine's hand.

"Um… rape victim at the Bellagio."

She looked at them sheepishly but they only nodded in grateful thanks for her consideration. As they stood to leave for their scenes Sara stopped them.

"How's Gil's case coming along?" She had been so focused on Gil's recovery the past few days that she hadn't even thought about his case. "Any leads on this guy, Shelling?"

Her three friends looked at each other, uneasily, and Catherine stepped forward and leaned back against the table.

"Well," She let out a long sigh. "Ecklie checked out this brother of his, John, at the state prison. It was a dead end with the brother, but it gave us a name and address for the one that kidnapped Gil."

"Wait a minute." Sara hadn't missed how Catherine tried to skirt around the truth. "What do you mean, a dead end with the brother?"

"He's… dead." Catherine looked between the two men and let out a long sigh. "The warden said that he was murdered by his cell mate around the time we found Gil."

"Oh my God." Sara's breath escaped her as she covered her mouth with a hand. "Does Jim know?"

"Yes." The three of them looked at the floor sheepishly.

"We didn't tell you because we didn't want to give you more to worry about." Warrick explained.

They hated that they had kept her in the dark, but Sara's features softened. She realized now, more than ever before, how blessed she was to have such good friends. She wished that they had told her but she was grateful for their desire to protect her and Gil.

"So does he have a name?"

"Reggie." Catherine continued, grateful that she was not angry. "Apparently he tried to call his brother a couple of days after we found Gil and was informed of John's death. He never showed to claim the body."

"He probably figured that the police would nab him if he did." Nick added.

"Ecklie went with the swat team to his house… but he was long gone." Sara saw their hesitation and implored them to continue. "In one of the rooms… the walls were plastered with newspaper clippings… and photos of Gil."

TBC

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Have any of you ever played the Game of Life ™??? I feel like I am in the middle of that, literally. I am the wheel and I keep spinning and spinning and spinning.

Sorry that it has taken so long to publish this chapter, but just when you think that you have the time to do what you want life squats and dumps on your plans. Okay, sorry that was gross.

But you know what they say about great works of art… they can't be rushed. So this is where someone says, "Let's get plastered." (ba dum bum) In the words of Jim Brass, "Thank you, I'm here all week."

What was I going to say… hmm… oh yeah! Review, review, review. Don't make me treat you like children and have to scold you for not fulfilling requirements. Because if it comes to that then I'll have to stop writing this story because it is way too mature for little kids to read. Would you like that? Huh? Would you? I didn't think so!

Wow, JellyBean was right, I do need to cut back on the caffeine.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragnet, just mentioned it as it seemed comical and fitting.

A/N: Sorry that it has taken me so long, but I got stuck on that wheel again. Damn it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Seventeen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After Sara left Jim double-checked the master bedroom and heard the rhythmic breathing of Gil's sleep. It surprised him since he fell asleep so quickly, but Gil had looked downright _exhausted_ by the time he and Sara had gotten him to bed.

He went down to the guest room where he had dropped his things and pulled an old tee shirt and shorts out of the worn duffel bag that had journeyed with him from New Jersey. He changed out of his work suit and draped the outfit over the chair in the corner. After pulling on his night clothes he took a moment to look around the room that he would be staying in for the next few days or as long as Gil and Sara needed him to be here.

Two of the walls were covered by tall, full bookcases. Books that reflected a variety of topics, from bugs to movies, forensics to … the Kama Sutra? Intrigued Jim pulled the book in question down off the shelf and began to leaf through its pages. His brow creased as each still photo became more intense than the last. He wondered if Gil and Sara had tried any of these positions and when he found his mind trying to envision them wrapped around each other in such odd fashions he quickly shut the book with a resounding slap and inserted it back into its empty slot on the shelf. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the vision that lingered but was unsuccessful.

He shook his head as he picked up his holstered sidearm off the bed. Before he returned to the couch, he checked the master bedroom one more time. He set his weapon on the coffee table and picked up the remote as he stretched out on the couch. He idly flipped through the channels, not looking for anything in particular, and settled on an old, rerun episode of Dragnet. He had always loved this show when he was a kid and remembered that it had inspired him become a detective when he was young. As the show carried on in its low-key manor Jim drifted off into a restless sleep.

_Jim stood in the corner of the small, concrete room and watched as Shelling forced Gil over the table that stood in front of him. Jim looked down at his helpless friend, unable to move. Unable to utter a sound. _

"_Please, Jim, Help me." Gil pleaded as he looked up at his friend. "Help me, Jim. Please."_

_Gil began to look more frantic as he felt Shelling step in close. Then his face erupted in a mixture of expression. Pain, fear, humiliation, degradation… betrayal. In his mind Jim heard a hundred voices, all screaming at him to shoot the man that tormented his friend. Telling him to make Shelling stop. Then they mixed with Gil's screams of pain. Screams that were not caused by his physical suffering alone. When all was done and he stood over Gil, who lay motionless on the floor, Gil turned his eyes up to Jim. Soft, blue eyes that conveyed only one emotion… intense betrayal._

"_Why, Jim?" He implored weakly. "Why did you let them do this to me?"_

Jim's head slowly rolled back in forth on the accent pillow on the couch and his brow creased in its expression of pain.

"No…" He softly moaned in his sleep. "I'm sorry."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His _arms were shackled to the wall, in spread-eagle fashion, and from where he sat on the concrete floor his legs were splayed out in front of him. Gil was drenched with perspiration and on the verge of passing out from the intense pain between his legs. He looked up into O'Tool's menacing eyes._

"_The pain will stop when you suck my dick." His words were cold and sadistic and Gil knew he meant every one of them. He had already passed out once, only to be revived with a bucket of ice cold water._

_Gil was broken and tired. He was ready for the end and willing to do whatever it took to make it stop. As he eagerly leaned forward and opened his mouth, Sara stepped up beside O'Tool. He looked up into her chocolate, brown eyes and she shook her head sadly, silently begging him to be strong and to fight the pain and O'Tool's sadistic demand._

"_I can't take anymore." He pleaded with her as tears stung his eyes._

_O'Tool's foot pressed down more, intensifying the pain and Gil nearly launched himself at O'Tool, desperately sucking his torturer's full length into his mouth. He sucked hard and in his inexperience imitated what they had forced him to do the day before and what little he was able to remember of Sara doing to him in the past._

_His eyes were drawn up to meet Sara's as he continued to pleasure O'Tool. The tears and evident pain in her eye's broke his heart. He had never seen her look so hurt. He wanted desperately to stop but the more worked O'Tool the more relief he got from the pain. O'Tool braced himself against the wall as he drew closer to his climax. As her tears fell like cold drops of rain on the darkest day of the year she began to shake her head and whispered one word. _

"_Stop." It was not just a spoken word, it was a word begged by a betrayed heart._

_He wanted to stop, he didn't want to hurt her, but he could not take it anymore and just wished it would all end._

_With one last, hard suck O'Tool came hard with a buck of his hips and knocked Gil's head back against the wall. Sara shook her head sadly and turned and walked away._

"_Please… don't leave me." Gil begged her as tears coursed down his cheeks. She stopped and turned back to look at him._

"_You broke my heart, Gil. I could never love a man who would so willingly give himself to someone else, just to save himself. You're a whore, Gil. Nothing but a dirty whore, and I want nothing to do with you." She walked away and never looked back again._

"_No!" Gil cried out weakly._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Jim woke with a start from his own dream from a sound coming from somewhere in the house. He looked at his watch in the glow of the TV screen and it read 2:35. He hadn't even realized that he had dozed off and sat up the couch. Then he heard it again and it sounded like a muffled cry. Taking his sidearm from its holster he went to the stairs and quietly began to climb them. He kept his back to the wall as he carefully worked his way up each step and held his weapon straight out in front of him, prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.

"Please…" Gil mumbled from the other side of the master bedroom door. "Please…don't…"

He finally made his way to the master bedroom where the noise was coming from and cautiously pushed open the door. He could barely make out Gil's form in the darkness. He watched as his long time friend slowly writhed under the covers.

"No!" Gil suddenly cried out in agony.

Jim rushed into the room and around to Gil's side of the bed. He quickly set his weapon down on the night stand and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Gil, wake up." He urged as he shook Gil's shoulder.

Gil's eyes flew open and there was no sign of recognition, only complete terror. Before Jim could react Gil's fist shot up at his face, connecting hard with his left eye. The power behind the punch sent Jim hurdling backwards and he tripped over the chair that sat in front of the window. He fell over backwards and slammed the back of his head on the dresser.

Gil rolled out of the other side of the bed and in his struggle to escape the spinning room he lost his footing and fell, landing hard in the far corner of the room. Against the awkwardness of the knee brace he curled into a ball and covered his head and face with his arms, waiting for the attack to ensue. He felt very dizzy and the back of his head, where the staples were, hurt from connecting hard with the wall.

Jim grabbed the back of his head and groaned loudly as he writhed on the floor.

"Son of a bitch!" He hissed through his clenched teeth.

As he calmed down, the headache began to subside a little. After a minute he pushed himself to his feet, while still holding his head, and searched the room for Gil. It didn't take long to find him huddled in the corner.

Jim carefully made his way back around the bed and settled down onto one knee. He gently touched Gil's arm, but when his friend flinched and tried to move further back against the wall Jim withdrew his hand.

"Gil." Jim spoke gently.

"P-P-Please d-d-don't hurt m-me." Gil pleaded without looking up.

"Gil, it's alright. You're safe." Jim reached out his hand but this time he put it on his friend's trembling knee. "I'm not going to hurt you, Gil."

Gil slowly raised his head and in the dim light cast by the bedside lamp Jim could see the tears that flowed down his cheeks. His heart ached for his friend as he saw the terror in his eyes fade away and be replaced by recognition and he quickly looked down at the floor. As more tears coursed freely down his face he began to sob heavily. Jim eased down onto the floor beside him and rubbed his shoulder. He wanted to say something. He wanted to offer magical words that would make his best friends suffering go away, but for now all he could was let him know that he was not alone. Let him know that he had a friend who was there for him. As Gil buried his face in his hands Jim gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The four investigators had gathered in the break room at the end of shift. After giving Catherine their reports Nick turned to Sara.

"So, when would be a good time for me to come over?" Nick was afraid of imposing and asked hesitantly.

Sara thought for a moment and noticed the Warrick and Catherine picked up on the conversation immediately. She could tell they wanted to ask the same question and smiled as she looked between them.

"How about breakfast?"

"All three of us?" Warrick asked as he tried to hide his excitement so as not to put her on the spot.

"Sure." She nodded. "We'll have to keep it quiet and low key, but I think it would be good for Gil."

"We'll meet you there." Catherine said and pointed to the two men. "We have something to do first."

"We do?" Nick and Warrick asked at the same time.

"Yes, we do." She replied firmly.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As Sara dragged herself up the front steps the realization of what a long night it had been hit her. She had needed to use all of her will power not to call the townhouse or Jim's cell every hour to check on Gil. She fumbled with her keys and after finding the right one she ushered herself through the front door and closed it behind her. She toed off her shoes and walked to the living room.

She draped her jacket over the back of the rocking chair that Gil had given her for her last birthday and stood for a moment, watching Jim who was stretched out on the couch with his back to her. Her brow furrowed with confusion when she saw the melted ice pack on the floor in front of the couch and when she stepped closer she saw the dark bruise that encircled his left eye and came down over the cheek bone. She quietly went over and sat down on the coffee table.

Slowly Jim woke from his sleep and his right eye opened, but his left eye was swollen almost completely shut.

"Good morning." He gave a slight smile, hoping to ease the visible worry on her face.

"I don't know how good it is." She reached out and lightly touched his cheek. "How did you get this?"

"It's my fault, really." He chuckled as he sat up. He touched his eye gingerly and winced at the pain. " Gil was having a nightmare and I woke him up. I don't think he realized _who_ I was or _where_ he was, so he lashed out in self-defense."

"Does it hurt much?"

"Not as much as the knot on the back of my head." He reached back to feel it and she leaned forward to examine the bump.

"Don't tell me he broke the lamp over your head." She frowned.

"No. I got that when I stumbled back, tripped over the chair and hit the back of my head on the dresser."

"Oh, Jim." Sara said sadly as she sat back down.

She rubbed her forehead in frustration. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, causing her to look back up at him.

"It'll be okay, Sara. We'll get him through this." He smiled.

"Well, how can I make this up to you?"

Jim seemed thoughtful for a few minutes and the longer he thought the more amused she became.

"Weelll." He finally said, drawing out the word.

"Oh, brother." She rolled her eyes and smirked.

"I suppose… you could do one… little… thing." He looked up at the ceiling, trying to be nonchalant and stealing quick glances down at her.

"Oh my God." She laughed. "How about I make you breakfast?"

"That's a great idea!" He said excitedly. She playfully swatted him on the arm and stood up. He held out his hand. "How's about helping an old man off the couch."

Her smile softened as she extended her hand and pulled him to his feet. He swayed as a moment of dizziness overcame him and she put her other hand on his arm to steady him.

"You alright?" Her voice was filled with concern.

"Yeah." He rubbed his forehead as the feeling began to fade. "I probably just stood up too fast. I'm fine." He reassured. "Do you have any aspirin?"

"Yeah, in the medicine cabinet. Do you want me to get you some?"

"Nah, I'm going that way anyways."

She watched him for a moment as he carefully made his way down the hall and when he disappeared into the guest room she made her way up the stairs.

She quietly peaked through the door that still stood ajar and was somewhat relieved to see Gil's still form lying under the covers. She padded around the bed and was not surprised to see him awake. He rarely slept for very long before one of his nightmares would wake him and he would be unable to sleep for some time afterwards and the evidence of his most recent nightmare concerned her greatly.

"Good morning." She smiled as she sat down on the bedside.

He looked up at her and cringed when he caught himself and quickly looked away. She ran her fingers through his mussed curls and he fearfully shrank away from her touch as he began to shake and struggled to hold back his tears.

"Gil, what's wrong?"

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. He wanted to beg her to forgive him for being unfaithful but he was sure that she wouldn't want to hear it. He was confused by her actions. He didn't understand why she would touch him the way she did after calling him a dirty whore.

He did not want her to touch him. Not because she had said it, but because of what she had said. It was a feeling that he'd had for a couple of days, but had not been able to put a label on it. She had named it and in his weakened mind it was accurate.

He felt dirty because he was, he rationalized. No one could be clean after allowing those things to be done to their body. The worst of it though was his rationalization that he _was_ a whore. Whores sell their bodies to be used for sex and barter took many forms, including mercy.

"Baby, won't you talk to me?" She implored. He turned his face into the pillow as he couldn't stand the thought of her looking at him. She tried to reason with him. "I want to help you, but I can't if you won't let me in."

"P-P-Please g-g-go aw-way." He begged as fresh tears of shame began to soak the pillow. She tried to take his hand but he pulled away from her curled into a ball the best that he could.

She was hurt. Not because of his refusal of her presence or touch. That was something that she understood all too well. Her heart hurt for _him_. He still, obviously blamed himself for what they had done to him and she knew it would be a long time before his feelings of guilt and shame would begin to subside. He had lost himself. He had forgotten who he was. If he didn't want _her_ around than he wouldn't want the others around either, but she decided to try just the same.

"How about some breakfast?" No response. "Catherine, Nick and Warrick are coming over. They've been really worried about you and would like to see you. "

He shook his head vigorously. He could not stand the thought of looking at his friends and having them watch him with accusing eyes and fake smiles.

"Do you want me to bring you something to eat then?"

The thought of eating intensified his nausea and he shook his head again. She wanted to push the issue but was afraid of pushing him further away.

"Okay, but you need to get something into your stomach if you want to take your pills." She gently reasoned.

She had not meant for it to sound like a threat and her voice had _not_ delivered that tone, but what Gil heard was… _If you want the pain to stop…_ and he complied fearfully. She stood to help him and the doorbell rang.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Jim closed the bathroom door and propped himself on the counter with his hands. He let out a long sigh as he looked at himself in the mirror. For the first time he saw the damage that Gil's fist had done to his left eye. The entire eye was encircled with a dark, ugly bruise that extended itself down over the cheek bone and it was almost completely swollen shut.

An image of Gil's fist flashed in his memory. He opened the door to the medicine cabinet and his eyes immediately fell on the clear bottle of little white pills on the bottom shelf. He tapped two of the pills out of the bottle and into his hand then popped them into his mouth before replacing the bottle and shutting the door. Grabbing a paper cup he rinsed the drugs down with cold water and stripped of his tee shirt and shorts. He stepped into the shower and, after adjusting the temperature, let the hot water cascade down over his head and shoulders. He relaxed as he felt the tension begin to melt away and shook his head as he thought about the day ahead. To help Gil was not a burden, but to see the once strong, determined, private man reduced to a terrorized, unsure and withdrawn victim broke his heart. Each day, since his friend awoke in the hospital, he had struggled to be near him and at the same time keep his emotions hidden so as not to disturb the bug man.

Jim laughed as an image of Gil holding that damned ugly tarantula on his hand popped into his mind. Then he brightened as a thought occurred to him. Maybe what Gil needed was to have his bugs from the office brought home. Jim detested the thought of having them around but he was willing to try anything that might lift his friend's spirits.

As he ran the wash cloth over his face he winced at the pain in his eye and a vision of the look of pure terror that had been in Gil's eyes flashed in his mind's eye. After washing and rinsing he climbed out of the shower and dried off with a towel.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara ran down the stairs and opened the door. She was not surprised to see Catherine, Nick and Warrick standing on the front step but she was surprised to see them all carrying what looked like bags of groceries.

"What's all this?" She smiled happily.

"Well, we thought that it might be kind of hard for you to get out and get your shopping done," Warrick nodded to the brown paper bags in his arms. "So… we did it for you."

"You guys are so sweet." She was truly touched by their thoughtfulness.

She opened the door for them and lead them into the kitchen. Nick shut the door with his foot as he was the last one in.

"Where's Gil?" Warrick asked hopefully.

"He's upstairs. One of you manly men want to give me a hand?" She smirked as they jokingly puffed out their chests. "Jim's in the shower and Gil really needs two people to help him down the stairs."

The two men playfully shot rock, paper, scissors and Warrick smiled triumphantly and followed Sara up the stairs. Sara laughed and thought that it would be good for Gil to see that they wanted to help him and she knew Warrick would be gentle and caring.

"I'll get breakfast started." Catherine said cheerfully as she began to unload the bags of groceries.

Upon reaching the door to the master bedroom they quietly entered. Gil was still lying in bed and when Warrick followed her around to his side of the bed he looked up at them for the first time.

His eyes widened with fear and he began to panic. His breathing became ragged and Sara stepped into his line of sight. She smiled sadly as she gently caressed his face.

"It's okay." She soothed. "It's just Warrick. He's not going to hurt you."

He remembered what she had said about getting his pills and forced himself to calm down. He did not want to make them angry at him and he was afraid that Warrick would become violent if he did not comply. So when they reached for his arms, to help him sit up, he complied without argument. In his fear stricken-state he had completely forgotten his need to use the toilet.

They slowly and cautiously helped him down the stairs and when they finally reached the dining room he put his hand on the chair that was closest to the door. They eased him down onto the chair and gave him some space. Sara went to help Catherine who was busy making pancakes and Warrick joined Jim, who sitting at the table drinking coffee. Catherine turned around and smiled at him.

"Hi, Gil." She wanted to give him a hug but after seeing the look on his face she decided to keep her distance for his sake. "We've missed you."

"Yeah, we have." Warrick agreed. "It must be good to be out of that hospital."

Gil kept his eyes downcast and seemed to be intently staring at his hands which rested in his lap. He shrugged a shoulder and swallowed hard. Sara took notice of his unease and offered him some juice. He silently shrugged his shoulder again and she poured him some orange juice before setting the pitcher down on the table.

Nick had been to the bathroom and when he came back to the dining area he was excited to see Gil. Gil had not seen him enter, however, as he was sitting with his back to Nick.

"Hey, Gil." The Texan said happily. "It's good to see you."

Without thinking he gently put his hand on Gil's shoulder, startling the older man. Gil's eyes went wide and his whole body began to shake. His breathing was so rapid that he began to hyperventilate. The medication that Doctor Kitts had prescribed to him for seizures had been ineffective.

His eyes rolled back in his head and his limbs went out straight. Nick stepped back, shocked by what he had caused, but Jim and Sara had reacted quickly. Jim lifted Gil off the chair as Sara pulled it out of the way. As Jim lowered his friend's flailing body to the floor Gil's head flew back and hit him in his left eye.

"Shit!" Jim cried through his clenched teeth as he turned his head away and pain shot through his face.

Sara ran to the living room and grabbed a pillow from the couch. Warrick quickly pulled the table away from Gil's thrashing legs, not caring that he had caused the drinks to splash out of their cups and onto the wooden surface.

"I thought he wasn't supposed to have these anymore?" Catherine asked as she knelt down beside Gil.

"Apparently the meds aren't working." Sara replied in an distressed voice.

Gil let out a loud groan of distress and stopped breathing as his arms, hands and fingers curled towards his chest. Sara gently but firmly rubbed his chest.

"Come on, Gil." She urged with forced calm. "You need to breath, baby."

His lips began to turn blue and in the last of the muscle contractions that ripped through his body his bowels and kidneys contracted. When his muscles released so did his kidneys and bowels. His pajama bottoms grew dark as they were soaked with his urine and the strong smell of feces became almost sickening.

As his body stopped convulsing they rolled him onto his side and he began to gag.

"What the hell?!" Jim asked in a panic.

"It happens with some people that have seizures." Sara explained. " We have to let him finish."

He had little to vomit but his stomach would not be satisfied until he did. What he threw up was bile and most of it splashed onto Sara's pants. He began breathing on his own again and, as before in the hospital, his body came alive before his mind did.

He tried to push himself up and when Jim tried to restrain his arms Sara told him not to.

"This is normal, we just have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." She explained.

He tried to get onto his knees but the brace would not allow the mobility and he toppled over clumsily like a baby learning to walk. Sara lunged forward and caught him before he hit the floor. She sat down on the tiled surface and cradled him in her arms. She had wrapped her arms around his chest and he swung his arm around and tried to hit her. Sara being out of his reach his intended target was not hit but Catherine, who was now sitting beside him, had to put up her arm to block him.

"It's okay." Sara whispered soothingly as she gently rocked him from side to side. "Shhh, don't be afraid. We're here. We won't let any one hurt you."

He stopped fighting but could not get his body to relax. _Every_ muscle hurt and as awareness crept back over him he began to remember what had happened.

"S-S-Sara?" He pleaded in a weak voice.

"I'm right here, baby." She rested her head on his shoulder, laying the side of her face against the side of his, and continued her gentle, rocking motion.

"I'm s-s-sorry." He again pleaded.

"Don't be." She tried to reassure, knowing that he probably wouldn't believe her or understand. "It's not your fault."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Reggie Shelling stood in the front hall of the now abandoned house where he had grown up in. The old house was empty and cold, but in the silence Reggie could hear his brothers voice. He smiled as the image of six year old John slid down the banister from the upstairs.

"_I did it, Reggie, I did it!" He said excitedly._

"_Way to go, Johnny Boy!" Reggie congratulated from where he stood at the top of the stairs._

As Reggie slowly walked through the old house many more memories flooded over him. He had few happy memories that had been made here. Most were memories of fear, pain and humiliation that had been burnt into his memory forever.

As he stepped into the hallway his eyes fell on the large dent in the plaster on the wall.

"_I did my best, dad." Fourteen year old Reggie had pleaded with his father._

"_Your best isn't good enough, you little shit!" Mister Shelling roared as he grabbed a handful of Reggie's hair and slammed his head into the wall._

He had required three stitches that night and all because he had not made the football team.

Reggie wasn't sure why he had come to this house. He had always hated it when growing up. It was a representation of all the suffering that he had been forced to endure in his life. Perhaps that was the reason that he had been drawn there that cold night. Not long ago he had been a man in control. He had been in control of the man that had ruined the life of the only person Reggie had ever truly cared about. Now, just a few days later, he felt like everything was spinning _out_ of control. He had lost his opportunity to avenge his brother and his brother had ruthlessly died knowing that.

He turned around and stoically climbed the stairs. He entered the first bedroom on the right. It was empty, like all the other rooms and its dingy walls called to his memory. It had been the room that he had shared with John in their youth and in his mind's eye he could still see the bed in the corner that they had shared.

_It was Christmas Eve and he and John covered their mouths with their hands to suppress their happy giggles. They had both tried their hardest to be good all year and Mama had promised that she had told Santa what good boys they had been and he said that he would be stopping at their house if they were in bed. Eight year old Reggie firmly held his hand over his mouth, but three year old John had not been so wise and let out a giggle. The door to their room burst open with a loud noise as it hit the wall and their father stormed into the room._

"_I thought I told you shits to shut the hell up!"_

_John lay frozen by the fear of his father's wrath but Reggie quickly sat up and replied._

"_I'm sorry, dad. I'll be quiet." He apologized fearfully. His father pulled off his belt then pulled him out of the bed._

As Reggie stood there tears streamed down his face. All he had ever wanted to do was protect John, but he had been too weak to do it.

He was hit with the hardest memory of them all. The memory of their bastard of a father brutalizing eleven year old John as Reggie sat on the floor, helplessly chained to the radiator. As the vision replayed in his memory like a horrifying movie his weakened mind played tricks on him. At first he saw his _father_ raping his brother, but the face seemed to flash in and out like the bad reception on a television and when it cleared it was Gil Grissom's sickening, pleasure-filled face that hovered over his screaming brother.

Rage exploded in him and he turned and looked at the old, cracked mirror on the wall. The resemblance was unmistakable. His normally slicked back hair in its lack of care over the past few days, had returned to its natural, mildly curly state. Grey had begun to show in his hair, both on his head and face. He hated the unshaven appearance, but had not felt like doing anything to groom himself since hearing of John's death. Over the years he had been told how much he looked like his father, but now as he stood looking into this broken mirror, he saw only one resemblance. The man that he saw in the mirror was the man that had renewed his hate.

Over the years of his childhood his mother and priests had drilled it into his head about the Holy Trinity. He now reasoned that if there could be a Holy Trinity, than there must be a unholy trinity too. Father, son… and destroyer of souls. As he looked at himself in the mirror he saw a combining of the three and with all of his force he punched his fist through the mirror and into the wall. Although it had been weakened by time he still pulled back his hand with a bloody set of knuckles. He covered his ears as John's screams still plagued him. He ran out of the room and expertly down the stairs. He burst through the front door, not bothering to close it, and dove into the front seat of his car. As he sped down the road all he could think about was that because he had failed the first time did not mean there couldn't be a second. He drove his injured fist into the ceiling several times as he screamed his rage.

"I'll fucking kill you, Grissom! I'm gonna fucking kill you! You won't get away from me again!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: It may seem like I am stretching this story out to let poor Grissom suffer a much as possible, but I want to assure you that I am not. It is sad, really, when you get into something like this and begin to realize just how deeply it affects victims and their familiesL

I'm not going to say it, I shouldn't have to say it. You people know what you are supposed to do with that little button down there. And don't even think of telling me what I can do with it!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I owe a HUGE thank you to JellyBeanChiChi! She was such an awesome help with this chapter. I couldn't have done it without you. If you have not read her stuff you should check it out. That chick has talent.

Sorry that it has taken so long for this one. Damn that wheel!

Warning: This chapter contains some mildly graphic flashbacks.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Eighteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone pitched in to help Gil. While Warrick and Nick carried him upstairs, Catherine stayed downstairs to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Sara and Jim followed the younger men up the stairs. Once they got him into the master bathroom Nick excused himself to go back down to the kitchen. He did not want to cause Gil any further distress.

Nick pulled on a pair of latex gloves and knelt on the floor beside Catherine. Without saying a word he took the paper towels and the spray bottle of bleach and began to clean up the mess. Catherine glanced at him sideways and saw the tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"I…I just feel like… shit," He said honestly when he noticed her looking and a few tears escaped as he finally looked up and met her gaze. "I should have known better."

"Hey, don't blame yourself. This is a big adjustment for _all_ of us and it's going to take time," she smiled softly, hoping to put his mind at ease. "We're all just going to have to learn to be more careful when we're around Gil."

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and concentrated more on the task before him. Catherine had to keep her own emotions in check so she relied on something she learned from Jim. A little humor never hurts.

"You know, after what happened today, I think the next decomp that comes in should go to Greg."

Nick stopped cleaning and looked up to see Catherine trying to put on her best smile. He returned a weak smile and nodded his head several times in agreement and understanding.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As she walked up the stairs, Sara debated the best way to clean Gil. She knew he was weak, but she also knew he would feel ashamed and exposed if Warrick and Jim helped in the shower. She couldn't let him fall in the shower either. She thought if she could get them to help him in and out of the shower, she could do the bathing alone.

"Jim, can you and Warrick get Gil into the shower? See if he can lean against the wall, if not we'll need to get the stool."

Gil cringed as he became aware of what was happening. His friends were taking his soiled, weak, broken body into the shower so his girlfriend could clean him up.

_Friends, _he thought bitterly. _They're not my friends any more. They can't be. They're just showing me pity because of who I used to be._

The thought of "the man he used to be" versus "the man he is now" sickened him. He began to draw labored, ragged breaths, which made his friends feel uneasy.

"Grissom, you alright, man?" Warrick asked as he held onto one of Gil's arms.

"Come on, buddy," Jim said gently, as he held Gil's other arm. "We're going to take off your clothes and then try and see if you can lean against the wall in the shower."

Jim and Warrick removed Gil's pajamas and placed the soiled clothing in the corner behind Jim. Gil didn't need a visual reminder of what happened downstairs. Naked and vulnerable in front of his friend and a man who looked up to him as a father, Gil shook enough for Jim to stand upright and take hold of his arm and shoulder.

Warrick took notice of the shaking too, but was stoic upon seeing Gil's wounds. He had seen the video of the horrific things those men had done to Gil, and now his jaw clenched as his eyes wandered painfully over each, ugly stripe on his friends back.

Gil caught Warrick's stare and shook harder before tightly shutting his eyes and clenching his fists. He wished Warrick would just go away because he knew the young man was ashamed of his former mentor. He was wrong. Warrick wished more than anything that he could take those wounds and all the pain for Gil. Sara witnessed the whole situation. She wasn't sure if Gil would be steady or not, but she had to give him some privacy.

"Guys. I think he'll be fine if you turn him around so he can lean against the wall. Just stay close. I'll call you when I need you."

She slipped into the large, walk in shower and placed the stool in the corner. Jim and Warrick gently and gingerly turned him so he was facing the wall, and Gil instinctively used his arms to lean against it. The exercise took a lot of effort, but Gil couldn't stand the thought of Jim and Warrick showering with him. But Jim and Warrick were able to read Gil's physical cues and still stayed at his side.

Sara kindly gestured and smiled towards her friends, to let them know that she and Gil would be okay. The two men left to go to the adjacent bedroom, but kept the door open enough so they could hear her call them.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Once inside the bedroom, Jim took a seat on the unmade bed, but Warrick paced the room like a caged animal.

"Come on, Rick." Jim whispered. He kept his voice low so the conversation would not carry into the bathroom, but also because his own emotions choked him. "Calm down."

"Calm down?!" Warrick said, his voice low but filled with tension and anger. "He doesn't deserve this, man. He doesn't fucking deserve this! Those piece-of-shit psychos… they treated him like a _fucking _animal… they abused him… DAMMIT!"

Jim stood up and grabbed Warrick by his shoulders. They looked at each other, face-to-face, and could read each others minds. The rage for revenge was fierce, but they knew that caring for Gil -their friend whom they loved and respected- was the most important task at hand.

Warrick closed his eyes while vivid images of Gil's wounds haunted him. Jim patted him on the back and guided him to the bed. They sat down on the bed with two feet of space between them and their hands in their laps as they stared straight ahead.

"You're doing a lot to help him now, Warrick." Jim said. "But all in good time. Got it?"

"Yeah." The younger man replied. He knew what Jim meant. He understood completely.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After Jim and Warrick left, Sara removed her clothes and stood naked with Gil in the shower. She couldn't hear anything from the bedroom as she turned on the water and grabbed the retractable showerhead.

A gentle smile formed on her lips as she held the attachment in her hand. She was now very thankful they had chosen a retractable head even though she had taken some teasing from Gil when she had suggested purchasing it.

"_You know, honey, some men wouldn't let their women get one of these things," Gil had said while he and Sara stood in the Home Depot two months ago._

"_Really? Why is that, doctor?" Deep down inside, Sara reveled in being referred too as __**his**__ "woman"._

"_What if you replace me for the massage setting?" Gil said, a teasing smile playfully crossing his lips._

_Sara laughed out loud. "Who says a woman can't handle you both?" She had sauntered away to the checkout lane, showerhead in her hand and her loving boyfriend at her side._

The water temperature from the showerhead seemed fine and Sara broke from her daydream to care for Gil now. After cleaning the area with water, Sara gently washed the backside of his body. The closer she came to his buttocks the more he tensed.

"Gil, baby, I need you to relax so I can clean you up better."

He didn't seem to hear her, so she repeated her request. When he was still unresponsive, she prompted him to bend over a little. As she gently pressed down on his shoulders, he fearfully complied.

_He could not get past the nasty taste in his mouth as he was roughly hauled to his feet. Gil panted for breath as O'Tool unbuckled his belt and laughed sadistically as he pulled down Gil's pants and boxers at the same time. He began to panic as Shelling grabbed him and pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to bend over the tabletop._

As the water cascaded over him he kept his eyes tightly shut. Sara kept silent as she continued her task lovingly. Even if she had tried to break the silence he probably would not have heard her over the voices of his tormentor's that filled his head.

_Swallow it. _

_You liked it, you faggot. _

_I own you. _

_You don't want to disobey me, do you? _

_Don't you fucking dare look me in the eye! _

_You faggot. _

_You will call us sir._

_You're a whore, Gil_.

_You faggot. _

_Nothing but a dirty whore. _

_You faggot. _

_Whore. _

_Faggot. _

_Whore. _

_Faggot. _

_Whore. _

Gil slowly and shakily brought his hands up and covered his ears. Sara saw the movement and became concerned as she gently took his wrist, to pull his hand down so he could hear her, and he yanked his arm out of her grasp.

"Please, honey, I need you to sit down so I can finish up." His hands were still on his ears but she was able to get him to sit down on the stool.

As she went to clean up his chest and face, Sara noticed that his breathing became more labored. He slowly shook his head and she could see the movement of his lips but could not hear what he was saying over the noise of the spraying water.

"I'm n-not a f-faggot. I'm n-not a whore."

She washed him the best that she could and when she kneeled down to wash his groin and between his legs, she could hear his tormented whispers.

"I'm n-not a f-faggot. I'm n-not a-"

"Gil?" Sara said as she put a hand on Gil's forearm. Gil jumped and quickly put his hands down at his sides. "It's okay," she soothed.

For the first time Gil willingly raised his eyes and met Sara's. She saw pure shame in his eyes as Gil held the gaze for a long moment.

"I'm n-not, S-S-Sara." His broken voice was unconvincing and despite the drops of water on his face Sara could see the tears in his eyes.

"I know, Gil." Sara hoped to reassure. "I know you're not."

Gil averted his eyes to the floor. Sara wondered if he knew her own tears mixed with the shower spray as she finished cleaning him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara put on a robe and called for Jim and Warrick to help Gil out of the shower. Sara had dried him off the best that she could and placed the towel over his lap to preserve his dignity. She stood behind Gil, with her hands on his shoulders, while Jim and Warrick entered the shower slowly. When they gently helped him off the stool, Sara wrapped the towel around his waist. With Gil's arms slung over their shoulders, Jim and Warrick led Gil into the bedroom.

"Don't worry, Sara," Jim said. "Wash up and get dressed. Warrick and I will dry him and dress him."

She stood still for a moment. _He has to understand that they are helping him, _she thought. Knowing that herself, she quickly retrieved some clean clothes and headed back to the bathroom.

Being the master of the quick shower, she came back to the bedroom with wet hair, but fully dressed five minutes later. Dressed in clean pajamas, Gil was back in bed. At Sara's request Jim and Warrick went downstairs and Jim returned with a glass of water and a small dish of applesauce. Gil had no interest in eating and made no move to take the spoon, but he did not resist when Sara quietly began to feed him herself.

When the dish was empty she set it down and took out his morning meds. She dropped the pills into his mouth and held the glass of water to his lips. When he was done she helped him to settle under the covers and knelt down on the floor beside the bed. He wished she would leave and when she began to gently caress his bruised face he wished she would not touch him. He was afraid that he would contaminate her and he didn't want her to be like him. She was much too good for that. She slowly moved her hand up his face and into his hair. This time he had not realized what she had done and her soothing movements had lulled him to sleep. When his breathing had become shallow and rhythmic she quietly left the room and went back downstairs.

When she entered the kitchen she saw her friends sitting at the table and noticed the smell of bleach and room deodorizer.

"Thanks for your help, guys," she said as she sat down next to Catherine.

"It's the least we could do." Catherine smiled warmly as she took Sara's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Sara noticed that Nick, who sat across from her, avoided eye contact and she when she spoke his name he reluctantly looked up at her with sad, teary eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Sara." His voice caught in his throat and he was reduced to a whisper. "I should have been more careful."

"You didn't know, Nick. Don't blame yourself," she said sincerely. Nick nodded his head thankfully and pushed past his tears.

"We gotta do _something_." Warrick spoke with conviction. The other's looked at him and waited for him to continue. "After O'Tool… went solo on Griss, he called him a faggot."

"What?" Catherine asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." Nick confirmed then tried to explain. "After he made Grissom beg to… to… suck him off he took a… a…" Nick just could not bring himself to continue as the lump in his throat choked him and he buried his face in his hands as fresh tears fell from his eyes. Jim, who was sitting next to Nick, put a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder and bit back his own tears.

"He took a big dildo," Warrick continued as he concentrated hard on the surface of the table. "He used it in Griss and hand pumped him at the same time." Warrick shook his head as his own, bitter tears began to fall. "He came hard. And when O'Tool was done… he said…'You liked it, you faggot'… I think he's got Griss convinced. He seemed to be trying to convince himself that he wasn't when we were helping him get dressed."

They were all in tears. They had wanted to ask the two men to stop but did not. This was something that their two friends needed to process and be allowed to talk about. None of them were sure of what to do other than to give Gil the constant reassurance that he needed, but they willingly discussed it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara had looked at the business card for some time. She had been reluctant to expose Gil any further but she knew he needed professional help. She picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card. A pleasant-sounding woman answered the phone by the second ring.

"Stacey Tolliver's office, this is Amanda speaking. How may I help you?"

"Yes, my name is Sara Sidle and I'm calling to make an appointment for Gil Grissom."

"Hold one moment, please."

_As if I have a choice,_ Sara thought as she was cut right to a track of easy listening music. Amanda was true to her word and just a few seconds later Sara heard a masculine voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Miss Sidle, this is Stacey."

"Um… hello." She was surprised that he would make his own appointments and politely told him so. He laughed softly.

"I received a call from my good friend, Stephen Diller, two days ago. He said that you might be calling about Doctor Grissom. He said that Doctor Grissom's case is an especially special one and I would like to help." There was a short pause. Sara was surprised by his kind and down to Earth tone.

"Thank you, Doctor Tolliver."

"Call me Stacey."

"Thank you, Stacey." She corrected with a smile. "And you can call me Sara." He laughed.

"Alright, _Sara_, why don't you tell me what you know about Gil's case." She liked that he used first names and kept it from being too professional.

She began telling the psychiatrist what had happened to Gil. He listened patiently and when she broke down in tears numerous times he quietly waited for her to continue. She finished by telling him of Gil's reaction in the shower and there was a long silence on the phone. She finally heard him clear his throat.

"I… um… no greater love hath man." He quietly quoted. "Sara… I have heard many heart-breaking stories in my many years as a therapist, but some are… well, some are just harder than others."

"Can you help him?"

"I will certainly do my best, Sara. Has he… said anything or given any hints that would lead you to believe that he is suicidal?"

"No," She forced back her tears. "But… he's so broken. He blames himself for what they did and his shame and self-hatred is more than obvious."

"Alright, Sara. I would like to see Gil as soon as I can. I have a clear schedule tomorrow if he will see me."

"He has an appointment with his neurologist in the morning, but after that I could bring him in. As far as him wanting to be there… He's been very compliant about everything since we found him."

"I don't want to sound heartless, but we may have to use that to our advantage. Shall we meet at one o'clock?"

"That sounds fine. Thank you, Stacey."

"You're very welcome, Sara. Do you need directions?" She looked at the card and recognized the address.

"No. I can find it."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil fidgeted restlessly in his sleep. Their eyes haunted him. Their eyes held so much accusation.

_He felt their presence as he pleasured O'Tool, but he tried to ignore them as he completed the dreaded task. As Gil slumped back against the wall, overtaken by exhaustion and the putrid liquid that had filled his mouth, his eyes were drawn up to meet theirs. His colleagues… his friends… his family, all stood before him._

"_I thought you were a man." Catherine spat the words angrily at him._

"_I looked up to you," Nick shook his head sadly. "You let me down."_

"_You used to be my friend." Jim glared at him viciously. "You're worthless. I don't even want to look at you anymore."_

_With great animosity in his eyes he spit on Gil. Then turned around and stood stock still with his back to his former friend. Catherine copied Jim's actions. She spit on Gil, catching him in the face like Jim had, and turned her back on him._

"_You're a coward." Warrick accused bitterly, with burning eyes. "You __**are **__his bitch."_

_Nick and Warrick each spit in his face and turned their backs on him. He looked to Greg, who stood with tears in his eyes. The young man shook his head in disgust as his sadness turned to anger._

"_I respected you." He spit in Gil's face before joining the others._

_Sara was the only one who looked at him now. He wished he could tear his eyes away from hers, but the hurt and betrayal that he felt he inflicted one her forced him to train his eyes upon hers_

"_Sara…" He was barely able to whisper past the lump in his throat. Anger joined the cauldron of emotions in her chocolate orbs and she slapped him hard across the face._

"_You filthy whore!" She choked bitterly past her tears. "I gave my heart to you… and you gave yourself to someone else!" Her shoulders slumped as her anger dissipated and she returned to silently expressing only hurt and betrayal. "I wish you had died in that room, Gil" She spit in his face and joined the others. _

"_I'm sorry!" He begged and pleaded. "Please… I didn't want to do it. I wanted to be strong."_

_It did not matter how much he begged and pleaded. It did not matter how many tears he shed. They stood firmly with their backs to him until they gradually faded away and he was left alone, in darkness._

_______________________________________________________________________________________

He woke with a startled panic to see Sara sitting on the side of the bed.

"Shh… it's okay." She gently soothed as she ran her fingers through his hair. He quickly shrank away from her and looked painfully terrified as her hand came down to caress his face. "You just had a bad dream, that's all."

What she didn't know was that it was the same bad dream that he'd had every night since they had found him. Every time he closed his eye's he could see theirs, filled with much hate for him.

"You hungry?" She knew what his answer would be and was not surprised when he shook his head. "You need to eat something." She called down the stairs and asked Warrick to help her. The younger man had bounded up the stairs but had been quiet when he entered the room.

"Hey, Griss. How you feeling?" Warrick was a little disappointed when he received no reply but he understood and did not push it.

"Would you help me get him downstairs?" They gently eased him up in the bed and as they made their way down the stairs she carried on casually. "Jim had to go to his place and take care of a few things so Warrick said he would stay here for a while. Everyone else just left not too long ago."

They took him into the kitchen and sat him at the table. Sara fixed him some soup and a glass of the orange juice that he had not gotten for breakfast. He looked more than just tired to her as she slowly fed him each spoonful. He was losing his battle again and more so, she was afraid that he was giving up. After he was done eating they helped him into the living room so he could watch TV and visit with them. She knew that he wanted to do neither but she was not about to let him isolate himself.

"I have to make a run to the pharmacy, Gil's out of bandages." Sara announced once Gil was settled. "Either of you want anything?"

Warrick had said, "No," and when she turned to Gil she was disturbed by what she saw. His eyes were lifeless, like those of a corpse.

"Gil?" She put her hand on his shoulder half expecting to startle him, but he only looked up at her with his lifeless eyes. "Do you want anything from the store?" He looked at her for a moment but stoically shook his head. "Okay, I'll be back in a bit."

Something gnawed at the pit of her stomach as she walked to her car, but she just could not put a finger on it so she climbed into her car and backed out of the driveway.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

If Warrick had not been so tired he would not have missed the look in Gil's eye's as he sat, staring into space. Warrick sat down on the couch with every intention of conversing with Gil and watching TV, but he quickly found that Gil was not in a talking mood and turned his attention to the television.

Gil could not hear the words spoken on the game show that Warrick watched. All he heard were the words of his tormentors and the words of his former friends. They floated in his head like his darks thought of death.

Warrick had all that he could do to keep his eyes open and he was finally overcome by the need for sleep and his head fell back on the couch as he slipped deep into slumber.

Gil covered his ears with his shaking hands, but it offered no relief as tears spilled down his cheeks. He panted for breath as his eyes opened and were drawn to the hand gun that was holstered and strapped to Warrick's belt. Warrick had been carrying the sidearm for fear of Shelling returning to finish the job, but in his drowsy state he had failed to completely secure the weapon.

It was like a sinister voice in the back of Gil's mind that told him to take the weapon. Gil could not stand the voices any more. He could not stand his friends looking at him with their justified hatred. He could not stand to live with himself.

He struggled, but pushed himself off the dining chair and carefully made his way over to the younger man's sleeping form. Warrick stirred a little when Gil removed his weapon from its holster, but did not wake. Carefully, and coming close to falling several times, Gil made his way out to the patio. Leaving Hank whining in the kitchen and scratching at the glass door.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara just could not shake feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was seriously wrong. She made a quick U-turn in the road and sped back to the townhouse. The car had barely come to a stop in the driveway when she jumped out and ran up the front steps.

When she entered the living room and saw that Gil was not sitting the dining chair and Warrick was asleep on the couch her fear increased. She shook Warrick awake and he looked up at her with sleepy eyes.

"Where's Gil?" She asked frantically.

"Huh?" Her friend looked confused.

"Where is Gil?" This time she demanded his location.

Warrick looked at the chair that the older man had been occupying just moments ago then jumped up from the couch.

"Oh my God." Her fear filled voice drew his eyes up to hers then he followed them down to his belt, where his sidearm should have been.

He looked at the couch where he had been sitting but they both knew where it was. He bolted up the stairs as she ran down the hall to the guest room. She found no Gil and ran back out to the living room only to stop at the kitchen when she heard Hank whining. She followed the sound of his voice and when she found him she pushed past him and out onto the patio, leaving him shut in the house.

She took only a few steps before she was stopped cold in her tracks, frozen with fear. Gil sat in a chair in front of her, his eyes shut tight. His right hand shook as he pressed the barrel of Warrick's handgun to his right temple.

"Gil," Her voice was little more than a whisper as he opened his eyes. "Don't do this"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I want to thank all of you who have not stopped reading though it got tough, and goodness knows it has gone far beyond tough. This has been a very sad story to write and when I became serious about its content I began to realize how sad it truly is.

This story has touched on many difficult subjects and one thing that I have learned, not just through writing and researching for this story but in life as well, is that one thing can cause a chain reaction resulting in the happening of many things.

In early season 1 of CSI Grissom stated that suicide is the final act of cowardice and, please don't take offense, I agree. We all face difficult struggles in life that are hard to get through, but we are given a choice. One thing that our poor Bug Man has yet to understand in this story is that just because he chose to give in to their awful demands does not mean that he made the wrong choice.

When we are given two choices in a terrible situation it does not mean that we are cowards or weak if we choose the easier of the two. Just because he chose to give in to their demands and obey their orders does not mean that he is weak or a coward. It simply means that he made a smart decision, in my mind anyways.

I guess my point is, that… don't give up. There is always going to be struggles in life, but they define who we are. They make us the person that we are going to be for the rest of our lives. (I heard that in movie, but believe every word of it.)


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: The thought has occurred to me that some of you may have found the intended humor in my AN's to be bit distasteful. It was not my intention and I hope that no one was offended.

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to Better Man by Steven Seagal. (Yes, that Steven Seagal)

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Nineteen

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**If only I had said all the right words**

**That I needed to say**

**I probably wouldn't feel this way, **

**Some are born **

**On the wrong side of the moon **

**Girl it's killing me **

**To keep hurting you**

**So I'm writing it down in a letter**

**And I'm hoping that you'll understand**

**I know, girl, that you can do better**

**And it's out of my hands**

**So go on, girl, find you a better man**

**Yeah Better Man**

**Well, a woman like you**

**Is so hard to find**

**But to stay here with me **

**Is throwing pearls to the swine**

**Why I did you like that**

**Girl, I can't even say**

**But I hope, in your heart, **

**You forgive me someday**

**And I know it's gonna be lonely**

**But I know you'll do the best that you can**

**With me you'll only end up losing**

**And that wasn't my plan**

**So go on, girl, find you a better man**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil centered all of his attention on steadying his shaking right hand as he raised the heavy-feeling handgun to his right temple. He squeezed his eyes shut as the voices continued to deafen him. His whole arm shook as it tensed to pull the trigger. Every voice seemed to scream at him to do it and he wanted to. He very much wanted to silence the voices and stop the nightmares. Just as he thought he could do it one voice stood out over all the rest.

"Gil," she called to him. "Don't do this."

He opened his eyes and in the darkness that clouded his mind she stood before him like an angel of mercy and the voices picked up again, like a dark chorus trying to drown hers out.

"G-G-Go aw-way." His own voice shook as he pressed the weapon deeper into the thin flesh on the side of his skull.

"No, Gil." Sara said firmly as she took a step forward. "I made you a promise." His eyes were drawn up to meet hers and he held her stare.

"I c-c-can't st-st-stand th-the v-voices an-nym-more." Tears began to fall from his eyes.

"Than listen to my voice." She reasoned. "I love you, Gil, _nothing_ will ever change that. We _all_ love you and we want to help you, baby, but you have to let us in." It was taking every ounce of strength left in her to remain calm, but her words seemed to have changed something in Gil. He hesitated and pulled back a little.

"B-B-But m-my d-d-dreams." He said, uncertainly.

"They're just dreams, Gil." Sara said as she began to realize why Gil had been acting the way he had when he was around them. "I don't know what you have been seeing in your dreams, but that's all they are, baby, they're just dreams." She took another step forward. "Don't you trust me?" Another step.

It was a question that had never occurred to him. Did he trust her? He always had before, why was now so different? She had called him a whore and spit in his face, like the others. But these were just dreams. He hadn't realized it but the more he reasoned in his mind the more the voices quieted.

When he felt her hand on his he looked up and met her gaze again. Her teary eyes matched his as she gently but firmly held his hand that held the handgun.

"Listen to _me_, Gil," she felt her own hand begin to shake. "I love you and _nothing_ will ever change that."

Slowly she pushed his hand down until the gun was no longer aimed at his head and his grip loosened as she gently pulled the weapon from his hand. She pulled him into her embrace and held him tightly as they were both overwhelmed by emotion and their eyes were flooded with tears of relief.

Warrick had come to a grinding halt when he saw them on the other side of the glass door. When he saw the gun pointed at Gil's temple his heart was seized with fear, but he felt relief wash over him when he finally saw Sara gently push the gun down then take it from their friend. He quietly stepped through the door and patiently waited for them to calm.

After several moments he stepped up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him and he saw the anger in her eyes. When they had both calmed she and Warrick helped Gil back inside.

Once inside Hank circled nervously around their legs as they walked Gil to the couch in the living room. The boxer whined. He didn't like the tension that he felt between his humans and their friend.

It made him uneasy, but more so there was something different about his dad. He didn't know what it was, but his dad, who was usually easy going and laid back felt tense and… smelled of death.

Hank whined as he looked up at Sara and sat on the floor next to the couch where Gil now lay on his left side. He whined again and laid his head down on the cushion next to Gil's hand and licked the appendage, but received no response so he sat there, contented to watch over his dad.

When they had settled him onto the couch Sara and Warrick stepped into the kitchen. He knew she was angry and he didn't blame her. He had screwed up and almost gotten his closest friend, her boyfriend, killed.

"Sara, I'm so sorry, I-" Warrick began but stopped when Sara held up her hand.

"Don't. Just… don't." She took a moment to compose herself and quell the anger brewing inside of her. "No one could rightfully blame you for falling asleep. You've been pulling extra shifts to cover for us. What matters is that he's safe now."

Warrick was grateful to have her forgiveness, but was not that quick to forgive himself. He was angry that he could have allowed this to happen. Hating himself would help no one but he resolved two things as he walked back into the living room. First that he would be more mindful when he was around Gil. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice and two, that he would channel that anger and new self-loathing into his desire for revenge.

When she was alone in the kitchen Sara pulled out her cell phone and speed dialed Jim's number.

"_Brass."_

"Jim, it's Sara."

"_Hi, Sara, what's wrong?" _He knew immediately by the tone of her voice that something had happened.

"I need you to come home, Jim." Sara swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Gil… Gil tried… Gil tried to kill himself." There was dead silence on the other end of the line as Jim blanched.

"_Did he…?"_

"No, he's on the couch now but… oh god, Jim, I need you to come home." Her voice broke.

"_Is Warrick still there?"_

"Yeah." She whispered.

"_Okay," _Jim was breathing again. _"Keep an eye on him, I'll be there as soon as I can."_

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Jim was true to his word. He traveled with sirens and lights to get through the three red lights and four stop signs before reaching Gil and Sara's townhouse. Sara met him as he burst through the front door, pale faced and out of breath.

"Where is he?" His voice was full of panic.

"He's okay," she held up her hands and he stopped. "He's in the living room and Warrick's with him."

He followed her to the kitchen but stopped at the doorway to the living room and looked in to see Gil lying on the couch and Warrick sitting stiffly in the arm chair. Hank looked up at him when he smelled Jim's scent, but showed little interest and put his head back down next to his dad's hand.

Once in the kitchen she told him everything that had happened since Gil awoke. When she was done talking she was grateful that he pulled her into a hug and held her tight as she was once again flooded with tears of relief.

As they both calmed down Warrick stepped into the kitchen. Jim didn't miss the look of failure in the younger man's eyes and decided if Sara could forgive Warrick than he had to forgive the young man too. There was silence for a long moment before Sara finally spoke up.

"Gil still needs new bandages from the drug store."

"I'll get them," Warrick volunteered eagerly. "I'll drop them off on my way to the lab, I told Cath I'd be in early."

After Warrick left Jim quietly went into the living room and pulled a chair up next to the couch and sat down in front of Gil. Gil didn't look up at him. He continued to stare at the spot on the wall that he had been intently studying for the last half hour, but after a moment he spoke.

"G-Go ahead, s-say it."

"What is that you think I'm going to say, Gil?"

"Th-That you're m-mad at m-me… th-that you're d-d-disap-p-pointed in m-me… th-that you th-think I'm st-stupid."

Jim looked down at the floor and let out a long sigh. He didn't know what to say. Under different circumstances he might have agreed with every word that Gil had said, but this… this was different.

"No, Gil. I can't say those things. For me to say those things would mean that I know what you're going through and I don't, Gil. I can't know what you're going through until you tell me. I am a little disappointed that you don't trust us, but… after what you've been through I don't hold that against you."

He reached out and put his hand on Gil's shoulder. Gil flinched but looked up at Jim when Jim asked him to.

"I don't think you're stupid either. I think you're terrified and lost, Gil, and I think you saw death as the only way out. But you're wrong, Gil. Let us help you."

Gil was silent.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara had been concerned about sleeping with Gil. She had not wanted to make him feel uncomfortable, but she also didn't want him getting up in the night by himself and there was _no _way now that she was going to leave him alone.

After changing his bandages and giving him his pills Sara and Jim helped him into bed. Jim said good night and headed downstairs to the guest room. Sara quietly climbed into her side of the bed and moved a little closer to Gil. She was not surprised when he hugged the edge of the bed.

She was awoke from her sleep a few hours later. She had moved closer to Gil in her sleep and he had woken her. As Gil dreamt, he whimpered and his body began to twitch. Sara stayed still and listened for a moment but when his actions intensified she gently wrapped her arm around his chest and spooned him.

"Gil…" she called softly. "Gil, wake up." He jumped awake and she soothingly caressed his face. "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay."

"S-S-Sara?" He whimpered her name like a terrified child.

"Yeah, it's me, baby," she moved her hand up and gently ran her fingers through his soft curls, hoping it would have the same relaxing effect it had the time before. "It's okay, you're safe."

When he had calmed back down and laid his head back down on the pillow she backed away a little and gave him the space that she thought he wanted. After several minutes she heard his voice in the dark.

"S-S-Sara?" He asked reluctantly.

"Yes?" She turned to look at him but he remained quiet for a long moment.

"W-Would… w-would y-you hold m-me?"

She recognized his fear and reluctance but her answer was one of compassion and love. "I'd like that." She spooned up behind him and cradled him with one arm under his head and her other arm around his middle. She hugged him close.

Sara felt surprised and relieved that he had finally let her this close. She missed cuddling with him and she gently nuzzled her face into the back of his neck.

"Thank you, Gil." Sara whispered as a contented smile graced her lips.

Had he heard her right? "W-What?"

"Thank you for letting me hold you. I've needed this since they took you."

Gil was taken aback, _he_ had needed _her_ in that moment but he had not realized just how much _she_ needed _him_. His spirits lifted a little when he realized that he could help her.

He laid his shaking arm on top of hers. Sara didn't move but Gil smiled a little when he heard her quiet gasp of surprise. Gil pushed away the feelings of discomfort as he interlaced his fingers with hers.

"G-G-Good n-night, S-S-Sara."

"Good night, Gil, I love you."

'I l-love you t-t-too." He replied after a pause.

Sara was almost shocked to hear those four words come from his mouth. She had begun to wonder if he might never say that to her again. She held him a little tighter and fell back asleep with a smile on her face.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara was awoken by the beeping alarm on her nightstand. She reached over and grudgingly shut the damned thing off. When she rolled onto her back she realized that she was back on her side of the bed.

Sara rolled over and looked at Gil. He lay on his back, hugging the edge of the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. The look in his eyes was distant. His eyes were dark and bloodshot, evidence of his regular lack of sleep.

"Good morning." Sara smiled as she propped herself up on her elbow. Her voice startled him and he looked at her then quickly looked away. "Gil," she gently took his chin and turned his face back to look at her. "Why won't you look at me?"

He brought his hand up and covered his bruised, right cheek. "I'm s-s-sorry." His voice was hoarse from lack of use.

"I don't want you to be sorry, honey, I just want to know why you won't look at me anymore."

He looked her in the eye and almost had to force himself to maintain the invisible contact. "I d-do w-want t-to l-look at you, I j-j-just…" he looked away again and she waited for him to continue. "I d-don't w-want you t-to hit m-me."

"What?" Sara was shocked to hear those words. She never would have imagined that would be his reason. Then it dawned on her. "Is that what _they_ did? Did they slap you in the face when you looked them in the eye?"

He slowly nodded his head and she gently moved his hand and pressed soft kisses to the darkened flesh of his cheek. When she had kissed a map around the bruise she kissed away the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye. She sat up enough so that her face hovered just over his and she gently cupped his face with her hands.

"Gil, you _never_ have to fear that I will slap you for looking at me. _None_ of us will. Not Jim or Nick or Warrick or Catherine or Greg. _None_ of us are _ever _going to abuse you, do you understand?_'_

"Yes." More tears came as relief washed over him.

But the good feelings of relief were soon replaced by bad feelings of anger. He became angry for not trusting them in the first place. Angry for assuming they were like the ones that had kidnapped him but it felt like a good moment for Sara and he bottled up his feelings so he wouldn't ruin it for her.

"Now, let's get ready for the day." She smiled and changed to a cheerful tone as she climbed out of bed.

She and Jim helped him into the bathroom to relieve himself. Jim left them to go make coffee and Sara said she would call him when they were done. Gil felt a little better this morning and he told her so. He was still a long ways from being able to get around on his own but he wasn't dizzy this morning and it felt like a marked improvement.

She wet a washcloth and helped him wash up. It was when they got to his lower extremities that she first noticed the bruise on his right thigh. It looked fresh and it looked painful. He hadn't had it in the hospital and she wondered when he had gotten it.

"Gil," she lightly touched the tender flesh. "How did you get this bruise?"

He looked at his leg then raised his eyes to meet hers. He didn't want to talk about it so he changed the subject.

"C-C-Can I have m-my p-p-pills?"

Sara didn't like that he was avoiding the question like he was guilty of doing something wrong and she had her suspicions as to where he had gotten the bruise from, but she let it drop for now.

Jim had made them all eggs and toast for breakfast. It continually frustrated Gil that Sara had to hold his hand when he ate. He wanted to push her hand away and do it himself, but he knew that he would only make a mess and embarrass himself even more. So once again he stamped down his anger and frustration and let Sara help him.

At his appointment with Doctor Kitts Gil became silent. His stuttering continually embarrassed him and he felt that it was bad enough that Sara and Jim had to hear it, much less outsiders.

They discussed his recent seizure and Sara gave all the painful and embarrassing details. He didn't want them talking about it, he didn't want to hear a recap of the most embarrassing moment of his life. The doctor had decided that the best thing to do would be to up his seizure medication. He didn't want that either, but he remained silent and locked his feelings inside.

By the time they left Doctor Kitts it was about noon and Jim and Sara were getting hungry. Gil could still care less if he ate or not as the smell of food only increased his nausea, but he went along and stamped down his annoyance at her insistence that he eat something. They grabbed a quick lunch at a drive through and headed in the direction of Stacey Tolliver's office.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Sorry it has taken so long for this one, but my brother is home on leave and the weekend was nuts.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Sorry that this one has taken so long to get, but the motherboard in my computer burned out and I had to have it replaced. Arrrg! Quite frustrating when you have to go to the library everyday and use their slow Internet. Plus it was quite distracting when the same, very smelly man came in at the same time as myself and sat across from me every time. I think there should be hygiene laws for public places:))

Anyways, I'm sorry about the wait and now we are back on track:) Here is an extra, extra long chapter to make it up to you:)

I owe a HUGE thank you to JellyBeanChiChi on this chapter, she was such a HUGE help and played a BIG part in writing this. Thank you JellyBean!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Denalgio, the round-headed, twisted son-of-a-bitch, continued to pace around Greg while the man in charge talked on his phone. When Shelling ended his call Denalgio quickly piped up._

_"You know, we **could** have some fun right now..."_

_"Don't waste your time or energy," Shelling said. "We need to be fresh for Mister Grissom."_

_Greg will never forget their laughter. Never forget the chills he felt upon hearing that phrase. Never forget the way Denalgio looked at him. And he'll **never** forget what Denalgio told him when Shelling wasn't looking. All Greg could see was that round, masked head approaching him, the hands of that madman touching his face and hair._

_"This Grissom... you think he's tough, pretty boy?"_

_"Grissom's tough," Greg replied defiantly._

_There was that laugh again. God, he hated that laugh. Denalgio got into Greg's face, too close to the CSI's lips, so Greg turned his face away._

_"Fuckin' punk!" Denalgio yelled. He slapped Greg only to be reprimanded by Shelling._

_"Goddammit! What the fuck did I tell you!"_

_Denalgio let out a scowling huff and returned to Greg's face. "When we get done with him, he won't be tough. He won't be smart. He'll just be a dead bitch."_

_The sound of Greg spitting on Denalgio's masked face was enough to make Shelling approach Greg and stop Denalgio quickly. But Denalgio simply wiped the spit off his face and laughed. He took a chair and sat in front of Greg. Those eyes. They pierced Greg. He kept watching, and watching, and watching._

_Shelling made another call, and Denalgio quickly closed the gap between him and Greg. This time he spoke in Greg's ear._

_"Just for that little stunt, you fucking asshole, I'm going to make sure that I'm the first one to fuck Grissom in the mouth."_

_The intake of air from Greg was low enough to be a personal gift for Denalgio._

_"And I'll be thinking of you when I shoot cum down his throat and on his face."_

_Greg's breathing became rapid. He felt Denalgio's tongue slowly lick a trail from just below his earlobe and up the outside of his ear. Greg could feel Denalgio's hot breath as he spoke in Greg's ear._

_"Then I'm going to ram my cock so far up you tough boss's asshole he's going to beg for fucking mercy."_

_Greg wished he were deaf. He wished he were dead. He wished Grissom had never answered that phone._

_"Because of you," Denalgio continued in an evil whisper. "I'll be able to fuck that worthless son-of-a-bitch over and over."_

_Denalgio kissed Greg's ear, as if the last comment was an intimate gesture in this torturous relationship._

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greg could practically feel that kiss again as he awoke, sweating and frightened, from the reoccurring nightmare. As much as that last feeling lingered in his unconscious, his waking thoughts were plagued by images from that disc.

He wept alone in his apartment as the afternoon sun peeked through the fluttering curtains. He thought about calling Sara and checking on her and Grissom but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't bring himself to face them yet. He called Nick instead.

"Stokes," Nick said abruptly.

Greg hesitated at Nick's greeting. Residue from his nightmare still plagued his mind. He shook off his thoughts. "Hey, Nick. It's Greg."

"Greggo? You feeling okay?" Nick's tone seemed clipped. Not like his usual self and Greg was surprised when he realized that he didn't sound sleepy either.

"Uh... I'm just... kind of tired out. Nick, something wrong?"

Nick took a deep breath. This wouldn't be easy to tell his friend. He knew Greg still blamed himself for what had happened to their supervisor. "Greg... Grissom tried to kill himself yesterday afternoon."

Greg sat straight up in bed. Fresh tears welled in his eyes. "What? How?"

"Warrick was watching him at their place and he fell asleep. Grissom got a hold of Warrick's gun. It happened pretty fast, but Sara was able to talk him down."

"Did he shoot?"

"No," Nick said quickly. The compassion in is voice returned. "No, Greg. He didn't fire the gun at all. Everything's cool. He had a really tough day yesterday and things got to be too much for him. I know Sara's taking Grissom to a therapist this afternoon. He'll get back on track."

Nick could hear Greg on the other line, even though his friend said nothing. Nick decided not to elaborate on Gil's seizure. "Hey, Greggo? Still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm here."

"Listen, Greg, he's going to be okay. We just... got to keep pushing on. Gotta keep thinking good thoughts."

Yeah, Nick. You're right. How's Warrick doing?"

"He's doing," Nick said, recalling how he had watched Warrick bash in a locker while the two stood in the locker room at work. "He just fell asleep, you know? We've all been working overtime and he was trying to help out and... we just can't blame him."

"Warrick couldn't have known that would happen." Greg said with conviction.

"None of us could," Nick said. "Hey, Greg, how about we meet for dinner tonight. You've been the invisible man lately, and even though you're scheduled to come back soon, it'd be good to catch up."

Greg thought about it. After his own kidnapping he just couldn't bear to be around everyone.

We just... got to keep pushing on. Nick's words echoed in his head. Greg found solace in those words in the aftermath of his own personal hell. It was time to push on. It was time to think good thoughts.

"Yeah, Nick. I'd like that," Greg said. "Maybe we can give Sara a call and see how she's doing."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When they arrived at the building where Stacey Tolliver's office was located Jim and Sara helped Gil over to the bank of elevators. Gil quietly rode with them but they kept a light hold on his arms as he now seemed to sway a bit and despite the calm, outer shell that appeared they could feel the tenseness of his muscles.

When they reached the right floor they helped him into Stacey's office and were a little surprised that the therapist was the only one there. Sara and Jim helped Gil through the empty waiting room and into Stacey's modest office. Gil wanted to sit on the love seat that was closest to the door and Sara helped him lift his left leg up so that he could stretch the braced limb out on the rest of the couch.

"Sara, can I talk to you for a moment?" Stacey asked after Gil was settled.

Sara and Jim followed Stacey back into the empty waiting room and Sara momentarily wondered where his secretary, Amanda, was.

"Have there been any changes since we talked?"

Sara and Jim shared a knowing look and she proceeded in telling Stacey about Gil's suicide attempt and what little he had shared about his dreams and the voices. When Stacey was satisfied with the new information he went back and shut the door. Sara and Jim each took a seat and began their hour-long wait.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stacey sat down in the armchair across from Gil.

"Hello, Gil, my name is Stacey Tolliver. I'm sure Sara already told you who I am, but I like to make formal introductions." Gil was silent. "So, why don't you tell me a little bit about _yourself_ and I'll tell you a little bit about _myself_ and we can get to know each other a little." Silence. "Your file says that you're an entomologist. One of the leading in the country." Stacey was impressed and it was conveyed though his voice, but he was met with silence.

Gil's breathing was deep and fast. He concentrated on each individual breath. It was the only thing that kept him from having an outburst. Rage. Panic. Crying. These were just a few of the things that were struggling to explode from him as he concentrated on the sky blue carpet.

"I'll bet they call you the 'Bug Man', don't they? I never really liked bugs in general, but I did have a butterfly collection when I was younger." Stacey relaxed back in his armchair, hoping that Gil would read his body language and do the same, but Gil fidgeted nervously. "You know what I've always liked about butterflies?" Silence. "They begin as what most would consider unsightly or ugly, then they lock themselves away and in a few days time... they reemerge as something beautiful."

Gil stopped fidgeting and shot him a glance before looking back down at the floor. For a long time all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock.

They had spent the rest of the hour with Stacey making small talk and Gil staring at the floor. Stacey had been pleased with the reaction that he had gotten from Gil on the subject of butterflies but after that, no matter how hard he tried, he had gotten no further response from Gil other than Gil's eagerness to leave once their time was up.

When they had gotten back out to the car Sara asked Gil how his first session went. He was silent but his body language spoke volumes. He began to nervously rub his right thigh and his breathing picked up again.

"I d-don't want t-to g-g-go b-b-back."

"Gil..." Sara sighed as she sat back and looked out through the windshield. "You need therapy, Gil."

"You c-can help m-me." He pleaded as he looked at her.

"I can only help you so much, Gil," she turned to face him. "You need to talk to a trained therapist. Someone who can help you get through this."

"P-P-Please..." he choked back his tears. "P-P-Please d-don't m-make m-me g-go b-b-back."

"Gil, I'm not going to make you do anything, but you need to do this. If you don't want to do this for yourself than do it for us... or for your job... but you need to do it."

Gil dropped his head and closed his eyes as he felt his rage begin to well up in him again. Sara and Jim watched him closely as he struggled to control his breathing and consequently his rage. When he had calmed back down enough he remained with his head bowed and his eyes closed but spoke in a controlled voice.

"F-Fine." He sounded calm but neither one of them missed the undertone of resentment in his voice.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When they reached the townhouse Jim and Sara helped Gil inside and settled him on the couch.

"Well, if you two are okay for a few hours..." Jim teased with a playful smile.

"I suppose we can do without you for a few hours." Sara quipped as she rolled her eyes in a playful fashion.

Gil didn't hear the light-hearted joke that his friends had made. What Gil heard was the expression of what a burden he was to his friends, and it was like a slap in the face.

When Sara walked Jim to the door Gil realized that he needed to use the bathroom. He determined that he would do it himself. He didn't want their help and he reminded himself that he didn't want to be a burden or a charity case.

He pushed himself, unsteadily, off the couch and began his wobbly journey down to the guest bathroom. He hugged the wall as much as he could without knocking off the multitude of framed pictures and display cases that were there.

When Sara returned to the living room and Gil was not on the couch where she had left him she began to panic.

"Gil," she called as she headed for the kitchen.

As she hurried past the hallway leading to the guestroom and office she saw him leaning heavily against the wall as he inched his way down the hall.

"Gil, where are you going?" Sara asked as she jogged to his side.

"I'm g-going t-to the b-b-bathroom. D-Do you m-mind." Sara ignored his bitter sarcasm as she stepped in close to his other side and took his arm. He scowled at her when she touched him and she ignored that too. "I c-c-can d-do it m-myself." He grumbled.

"Gil, you need help getting around until your knee is healed. It's okay."

"I'm n-not f-f-feeble." Gil argued.

"No one ever said you were." Sara frowned.

They made it to the bathroom and Gil tried to shut the door before Sara entered, but she easily put her hand out and stopped it while biting back her annoyance. He propped himself on the bathroom counter with one hand and with his other hand he pushed the front of his sweat pants down far enough to get out of them. Sara quietly stood behind him with her hands on his tense shoulders to steady him.

When he was done he washed his hands and headed back into the hallway, not waiting for Sara's help. She rolled her eyes after he had turned his back and tried not to sigh in her growing agitation at his bad attitude. She followed close behind, keeping her hands on his shoulders, and when they got into the hallway she stepped in close to his side.

She again took Gil's arm and he tried to shake her hand off. His mood swing had her slightly confused at first. That morning he had been afraid of her and now, just a few hours later, he was growing increasingly angry with her. She had to remind herself that this was normal. Both the rape and brain injury were going to make him have mood swings and they could not hold that against him. It wasn't his fault and he had every right to be moody if he wanted to be.

When they got back to the living room Gil bumped the coffee table, like he had every time he had walked through the living room before. The bump had tipped over glass of water that had been left on its wooden surface and it splashed to the floor. Sara couldn't hold back her sigh this time as she picked a towel up from the table and began to wipe up the mess.

"It's okay, Gil, Nick's coming over to help me move the furniture around."

"I d-don't n-need his help." Gil said as he went to push the couch back. He lost his balance and fell hard on the floor on his right side.

"Gil!" Sara cried out in surprise as she grabbed for him but was too late to catch him. She carefully helped him to his feet and he pulled from her grasp.

"St-Stop it." Gil demanded.

"No, you need to stop. You're going to hurt yourself." She stopped herself and closed her eyes for a moment to calm down. When she spoke again her tone was more pleading. "Gil, we do need Nick's help. And that's okay. Please understand that."

They both heard the doorbell ring and Sara settled Grissom on the couch and without a word, went to answer the door.

It was Nick. Gil could hear his enthusiastic greeting for Sara, and could hear how Sara was so happy to see him. Gil heard Nick say that he had brought Sara food so she wouldn't have to cook.

_Because you're such a burden_, he heard a small voice in the back of his mind say. _She's probably grateful there's a real man in the house._

Gill didn't hear much else coming from the door, just how Sara's voice seemed happier at the sight of company. Nick must have brought someone else with him. She carried on light conversation. Talked about the events of the day and joked lightly.

_She's joking about you and how pathetic you are_, the voice continued. Then the voices in his head mixed with the voices reaching his ears. Sara wanted Nick to help move the furniture so Gil could move around better.

_She needs help because you're useless. You should have shot yourself yesterday, you fucking coward! They brought over food so they could laugh while they watch Sara spoon-feed you like a fucking child._

Gil's agitation returned with a vengeance. Once again he began pounding on his right thigh. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted them out of his goddamn house, out of his goddamn head!

He grabbed the glass off the table and gripped it tightly in his hand. He couldn't understand what was happening. All he knew was that he wanted to be left the fuck alone by the voices that kept returning to his head and he wanted to lash out at anyone that said another thing to him.

Sara entered the room with Nick and Greg to explain what she wanted to move, and she stopped when she saw Gil's angry, red face. His body shook as he tightly gripped the glass and everything about him screamed rage.

"Gil?" she asked cautiously. "What's wrong, Gil?"

She put her hand on his arm when he didn't respond and that was the last straw. Lost in his rage he threw to the cup down on the coffee table, which had been the center of his focus, and it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Then, without comprehending the pain in his leg as he surged up from the sofa, he flipped the coffee table.

Nick and Sara reached to grab Gil's arms, but he pushed Sara away and she fell hard on the floor amidst some of the broken glass. With his free arm he punched Nick in the chest, knocking him back against the wall. Gil turned and saw his face reflected in the mirror hanging on the wall next to him and, in his rage, he didn't recognize his own face. What he saw was something angry and grotesque. Screaming, he put his fist through the mirror and cut his knuckles.

Nick and Greg moved towards Gil and both saw the lack of recognition in his eyes. Gil didn't see his friends. He saw Shelling and Denalgio advancing on him. He lashed out and caught both young men off guard. He threw a punch that connected hard with Nick's jaw and roughly pushed Greg against the wall. As he turned to run for the door, both men grabbed him.

With an arm still healing, Greg couldn't get a good hold on Gil. He watched Gil and Nick fall face first to the floor. Gil struggled hard against Nick. Gil couldn't reconcile that he was not being attacked. To him he was face first on the floor with one of his rapists on top of him.

"N-No!" Gil screamed in horror. "N-No, p-please d-don't! P-Please, d-don't rape m-me!"

Gil thrashed, banging his head on the floor three times before Nick put his hand on Gil's head, holding him still.

"Easy, Griss. It's alright, no one's going to hurt you."

Gil stayed rigid on the floor. Nick continued to soothe him as best as possible. He feared being the cause of another seizure, but he could feel Gill begin to relax in his grasp.

Nick pulled Gil up off the floor and settled him onto the couch. The first thing that Gil saw was Greg helping Sara. He saw the young man tenderly holding Sara's arm, which suffered some scrapes from the broken glass on the floor.

With his rage dissipated, the events of the last few minutes replayed in Gil's head. "Oh, G-G-God, S-Sara. I'm s-s-sorry." With Greg's help, Sara stood up and went and sat on the couch next to Gil. "I hurt y-you."

"I'm fine. But we have to look at your hand." Gently taking his hand Sara examined the deep cuts in Gil's knuckles. Some still had small pieces of glass embedded in them. "We need to get you to the hospital, I think you might need stitches."

"N-No." Gil shook his head. "N-No hosp-pital."

"Alright," she put her hands up and didn't force the issue. "But we do need to clean up that hand and get you bandaged."

With Nick's help she got Gil down to the bathroom. When Gil was settled on the toilet Nick left the room to go clean up the mess caused by the ruckus. Hank had followed them into the bathroom and sat down by Gil's feet and nudged his uninjured hand. Gil didn't respond, so Hank rested his head on Gil's uninjured leg and looked up at his dad as soft, barely audible whimpers emanated from his throat.

Sara looked down at Hank for a brief moment before she began cleaning Gil's new wound. Hank had been very faithful to Gil since he had come home from the hospital. He had never left Gil's side the whole time. Even when he went to bed at night Hank stayed with him. He had not gotten on the bed once, which was opposite of his custom, but instead slept on the floor next to Gil's side on the bed. Sara could never be completely sure but she was positive that the boxer sensed Gil's injuries and didn't want to make them worse.

After cleaning Gil's wound, and stopping the blood that oozed from the cuts, Sara applied ointment and a non-stick gauze pad before taping it to his hand. Then she carefully helped him out of his shirt and was relieved to see that he had not torn any of the remaining stitches.

"C-Can N-Nick look at you n-now, t-to m-make sure you're ok-kay?" Gil asked as she buttoned up his shirt and he sat still with his eyes downcast.

The tone of his voice offered both guilt and shame. Sara knew Gil's rage was a culmination of everything that had happened, especially in the last twenty-four hours.

"I told you, I'm fine. I was going to tell them to come back another day." Sara replied, trying to catch a look at Gil's eyes. Her efforts were to no avail.

"N-No," Gil said softly. "He'll t-take c-care of you. I hurt you."

Sara stood, holding Gil's bandaged hand. Before she could reply there was a knock on the door.

"Sara? Everything okay?" Nick asked from the other side of the door.

"Yeah." Sara said solemnly as she opened the door. "You wanna give us a hand?"

They helped Gil off the toilet and began the slow journey down the hallway. Gil was drained after his outburst and they had to half-carry him back to the couch. Once he was situated he closed his eyes and sat in silence. Nick tapped Sara's shoulder and she turned to look at him.

"Let's have a look your arm." The two went back to the bathroom and left Gil to be alone.

Gil listened to Nick and Sara as they made their way back to the bathroom and spoke in hushed voices. He also heard someone moving around in the kitchen. About ten minutes later he heard Sara's voice.

"Hank," Sara called the dog. "Come on boy. Let's go for a walk."

The statement made Gil open his eyes. "You're l-leaving w-with Hank?"

His voice seemed distant and Sara saw a hint of fear in his eyes. If Gil continued to withdraw and become mired in his depression, Sara knew his voice would become unrecognizable. Even when he took a step forward, as he had the night before, he was beginning to take two steps back. And Sara felt she was losing him.

"I'm just taking Hank out for a walk, and Nick didn't want me to go alone. We'll be back."

She didn't say goodbye to him. She just couldn't bear too, not after his suicide attempt. Nick put a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. "Don't worry, he won't be alone."

Gil's eyes never left the couple as he watched Nick lead Sara away. He should be accompanying her on the walk. But he couldn't and he was hurting her because he was a failure. A broken, old failure.

"Hey, Grissom," Greg said as he stepped into the living room, holding a coffee cup. "You feel like a cup?"

"G-Greg?" Gil's voice echoed surprise and concern.

Gil had forgotten that Greg was present for the whole ordeal. In all his time since the kidnapping, Gil had seen little of Greg. It didn't bother Gil. The less people who saw him at his most vulnerable moments, the better. Greg probably thought that Gil was too pathetic to visit.

So, Gil thought. Why is he here now?

The two men exchanged looks and then retreated within themselves. They hadn't realized that they both shared the same feeling at that moment -- guilt for causing the other pain.

Gil stared at his hands but mumbled, "Ar-Are you ok-kay?"

"What?" Greg replied in surprise.

Gil cleared his throat and gave a quick glance at Greg before looking back down at his hands. "Ar-Are you ok-kay?... I've... I've b-been w-worried about w-what... w-what hap-pened t-to you... I... I d-didn't know if you w-were ok-kay."

Greg never expected this visit to be easy, especially after seeing the older man's outburst. Gil was supposed to be bitter. Angry. Resentful. And it was supposed to be directed towards him... towards Greg... the person who was told what would happen and then watched it just hours after it did.

"Me? Yeah, Grissom, I'm fine," Greg said, wiping a tear from his eye. "My arm's pretty much healed." Greg offered a small smile. Gil gave him one back.

"N-No one told m-me w-what hap-pened to you," Gil said, his smile a distant memory. "I... I j-just... I d-didn't w-want t-to think... that they."

Gil struggled with his words. Greg helped him. And at that moment he was the only one who could help Gil because Greg understood exactly what Gil was trying to say.

"It's okay, Grissom. They didn't rape me. They just beat me up a bit. They didn't do to me what they did to you."

Gil's eyes returned to his hands but he let out a sigh and closed his eyes tight. He couldn't lose it again.

God, don't let me lose it again. I have to tell Greg I'm sorry. They kept him captive because of me. He'll never forgive me.

"I'm sorry." Greg's voice once again startled Gil from his own thoughts. He looked up at Greg whose tears now flowed down his cheeks.

"Grissom... dammit. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," Greg kept seated, but sobbed and fidgeted in his seat. "He told me what he would do to you. He whispered it in my goddamn ear. I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything. I didn't fight him. I didn't find you. I'm no better. I'm no better than those fucking rapists. I'm fucking worse because I'm a goddamn coward."

Greg held his face in his hands as he continued to cry. It was so silent in the room, Greg's loneliness became punctuated by his own mantra of, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The tension in the air beat down upon the young man.

Then he felt a shaking hand upon his head.

For a minute, while Greg calmed, he felt Gil's hand gently rub the top of his head. Greg finally looked up and Gil pulled his hand away.

"P-Please, G-Greg," Gil said, his eyes quickly looking at Greg before becoming downcast once more. "You're n-nothing like them. N-Nothing. They used you to g-get to m-me. If it w-wasn't for m-me, you n-never w-would have b-been there. I'm s-sorry." Gil hung his head low and tightly shut his eyes. "I'm a c-c-coward. I l-let them d-do that to m-me. I'm... I'm n-not a m-man."

Greg looked at Gil, astonished. Again there was silence. With his eyes shut Gil wasn't even sure if Greg was still in the room. That was until Greg moved closer and sat on the coffee table in front of Gil.

"Come on," the barely composed Greg said with a smile. "Rock, paper, scissors."

"Wh-What?" Gil asked as he raised his eyes and met Greg's.

"I'm offering you a chance for a rematch."

"Re-Rematch?" And then it dawned on Gil. They had played that game to see who would stay at the crime scene and who would go to the lab. "W-Why?"

"Because we need to start over."

Somewhat reluctantly, Gil once again held out his right fist, which slightly shook this time. He stuttered as he copied Greg's chant and followed his actions as they played the simple children's game. After three fist pumps Gil held out a flat hand and Greg, sitting with a smile on his face, held out his fist.

"Paper beats rock every time."

"R-Right. D-Do I w-win s-something?"

"Forgiveness." Greg said, catching Gil's incredulous look. "Not just from me, but from yourself. You're not a coward, Grissom. You're not. Only a brave man would put his own needs aside for another man's life."

Greg had so much to say but he waited for those words to sink in. After witnessing how much rage Gil had for himself, Greg thought this might be the only time he would have to get through to him. For the sake of Gil, Sara, their friends and for Greg's own sanity, he had to keep punching and get through to the Grissom of before. "You saved my life out there, Grissom. You risked everything for me. Please let me help you. Let Sara help you."

"There's n-nothing l-left to help."

Greg took a deep breath and for the first time since he arrived, probably the first time ever, he touched Gil. He took the older man's hand. "Yes there is."

"N-No." Gil tried to get his hand out of Greg's grasp.

"Yes, there is." Greg put his other hand on Gil's shoulder. "I never fought back. I never told them to stop. I know what it's like to hear their voices, to feel their presence and to feel so nauseous you think you might not ever eat again. Do you think I'm a coward because of that?"

Gil stopped struggling. "N-No."

"Do you want me to give up everything, including my job and my happiness, because of that?"

Gil shook his head. "N-No. No, G-Greg."

"Then neither should you. We're not going to let you give up."

Gil tried not to cry in front of Greg. He tried to keep his face downcast, but he brought his face up just for a second to see Greg smiling and full of compassion. Before he could retreat from Greg's gaze, the young man spoke again. "I didn't know about you and Sara, but when I saw her picture on your cell phone, it really kept me going in that stupid shack in the desert."

Greg chuckled but saw the mist in Gil's eyes. "I know you love her, Grissom, and God, she loves you so much."

"I'm hurting her. I d-don't d-d-deserve her."

"Does anybody?" Greg said, receiving an understanding nod from Gil. "I mean, she's something special. But she's chosen you."

"And I c-can't g-give up."

"Yeah." Greg's voice was barely more than a whisper. "That's right. You can't." He squeezed the older man's hand then released it. "You want some coffee now? I brought my stash."

"Ok-kay," Gil replied. He kept his eyes downcast, but then lifted them a little. "G-Greg? Thank you."

The younger man nodded and left for the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Sara and Nick returned with Hank they both expected to see Gil still sitting on the couch and still lost in his withdrawal. They were pleasantly surprised, however, to see that he and Greg were sitting side by side on the couch, drinking coffee. Due to the shakiness, Gil needed help to steady the cup. But now, he gratefully accepted the kind gesture rather than take it with spite.

When Sara entered the living room Gil looked up at her and smiled. It was a warm and welcoming smile. One that she had missed for what seemed a long time. As she looked deep into his eyes it was as if she were looking at a new man.

Tears formed in her eyes as relief washed over her. Greg got off the couch and asked if they wanted coffee. Nick said, "Yes," but Sara had not even heard the question. She took a seat beside Gil. Nick and Greg excused themselves to the kitchen to give their friends some privacy.

Sara was speechless. She wanted to know what had happened while she and Nick were gone, but couldn't speak through the lump in her throat. Gil took her hand in one of his and he raised his other, shaking hand and brushed away a tear that had escaped the rest and now rolled down her cheek.

"I'm n-not g-giving up," he whispered to her, with determination. "I l-love you too m-much to hurt you l-like that."

Sara pulled him into loving hug and let her tears flow freely. Gil held her close as his own relief washed over him. They both knew that his recovery was far from over, but now that he was determined to get through this and not give up it would make the journey a little less painful.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________A/N:

A/N: Okay, this is the part where I'm supposed to tell you wonderful, beautiful, patient, gorgeous readers to review. I'm not going to tell you to review, I'm not even going to beg. I will say this though, you all have been awesome and supportive. You really give this story wings with your reviews.

And not the Stay Free wings, which hold you down, but the wings of a Dove... or a Seagull.

There goes my sense of humor again!


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for being patient with me through this. I know it's been a long and difficult wait and it hasn't always turned out the way that we wanted it to but you guys have been great. I owe a big thanks to JellyBean again for doing an awesome beta job on this:)

I don't think that I infringed on anyone in this chapter, but if I did I am sorry and I am sure that you will have your lawyers contact me:D

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-One

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After a couple of minutes Nick and Greg returned with more coffee. They sat in the armchairs across from Gil and Sara.

"N-Nick," Gil called his friend's attention. "S-S-Sorry ab-bout your j-j-jaw."

"Don't worry about it, Griss. I never would have thought that a science geek would have such a great left hook."

Everyone laughed, including Gil who turned his sheepish smile to Greg.

"No worries, Grissom," Greg added before Gil could speak. "You've been pushing me around for years."

Gil was grateful for their covert forgiveness and that they were not just dismissing his actions.

They sat and talked for a while before they realized that it was dinner time. Just as it was mentioned they heard Jim announce himself from the front door.

"We're in here, Jim." Sara called over her shoulder and moments later Jim entered the living room.

"Hey, everyone. I brought dinner." Jim greeted them with a smile.

"So did Nick." Sara smiled in return.

Jim straddled the dining chair that still sat beside the couch. It was then that he noticed the redness that indicated a bruise beginning to show on Nick's jaw and the new bandages on Gil's knuckles and Sara's arm.

"So... did I miss anything while I was gone?" Jim calmly asked.

Everyone became silent and Gil's cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he looked down at the floor, ashamed of himself. Taking Gil's uninjured hand, Sara smiled warmly.

"Yeah, you did." Gil tightly shut his eyes as he knew that she was going to tell Jim of his outburst. But instead, Sara focused on the outcome. "Gil's decided that it's time he worked to move forward."

Gil raised his eyes in astonishment which quickly turned to overwhelming gratitude that she had maintained his privacy. He looked at Jim and saw his friend would let Gil tell him what happened when he was ready instead pressing the issue now.

"Well, I had an... interesting... afternoon." Jim said, changing the subject despite his curiosity.

"Yeah?" Sara was immediately intrigued. "Where did you go?"

"I went to the lab," Jim replied as he stood up and walked over to the doorway. "Because I got to thinking the other day about what would help to cheer Gil up." Jim smiled secretively as they all watched him disappear into the other room. When he returned a moment later, he held something behind his back. "And I thought about that God-awful... damned ugly... hairy spider in his office."

Gil's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Har-Harry? You b-b-brought Har-Harry?"

Jim brought the clear, plastic carrying case out from behind his back which housed the tarantula. Gil lifted his shaking hands and received the cage as Jim passed it to him. As Gil looked up at Jim his eyes misted.

"Thank you, J-J-Jim."

"Don't mention it, pal," Jim smiled, then grimaced when Gil reached into the cage. "Ewww."

Gil's hands seemed to shake less as he concentrated on holding the delicate creature on his hand. Sara watched Gil fondly as his eyes were filled with happy wonderment. With Gil enthralled by the spider, the others got dinner on the table.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry began to become agitated, as he had not been held for a while and was no longer used to it. Gil carefully put the spider back in its cage and set the cage on the coffee table in front of him.

As Gil looked out the window at the street that ran in front of their house the sounds coming from the kitchen faded in the silence of the room as the voices of his tormentors invaded his thoughts again.

You liked it, you faggot.

You're garbage!

You don't want to disobey me, do you?

Gil covered his ears with his hands as their voices from his memory mixed with the voice of his own doubt.

You're worthless, you pathetic piece of garbage! What makes you think that Sara still wants a broken, old failure like you?

Gil became more agitated and squeezed his eyes shut as he fought the doubt. "G-Go away. G-Go away," he whispered.

He hadn't heard Sara when she quietly sat down beside him, but he jumped when she touched his arm. "Gil, is it the voices again?" She quietly asked and he nodded.

"I c-can st-still hear th-the things they said to m-me." Gil lowered his hands to his lap and Sara gently caressed his face.

"What do you think of the weather?" Sara's question came out of nowhere. While Gil didn't understand why she suddenly changed the topic, she continued on her tangent. "That sunshine is gorgeous, don't you think?"

Gil looked out the window and nodded, but was still confused by her sudden change in demeanor ... until he looked back at her and saw a renewed compassion in her soft, chocolate eyes.

"Yes, it's v-v-very b-beautiful."

"I like days like this, they put me in a better mood."

Gil realized he could no longer hear the voices of his tormentors and the tiny voice of doubt was nothing more than a distant whisper. Sara came to the rescue once again, and drove away his demons.

"The s-sunshine m-makes m-me f-feel b-better too." Gil smiled beyond the tears of love and gratitude that welled in his eyes. "C-Can w-we eat on the p-p-patio tonight?"

"That's a great idea. You haven't been outside much. You could sit in the sun until it sets."

Sara continued her conversation and helped Gil off the couch. She seemed excited about something as small as eating outside, but Gil didn't mind her enthusiasm. He appreciated and understood what she was doing. And now he concentrated more on her voice rather than what was being said. The sound of her voice was like a chorus of angels to his soul.

They slowly made their way into the kitchen to see Greg setting the table as Jim and Nick warmed the food and got out the drinks.

"We're going to eat on the patio tonight, guys," Sara piped up.

All three men stopped what they were doing and turned to look from Sara to Gil, then back to Sara again as an awkward silence hung in the air. All three of them knew that the patio was where Gil had tried to take his own life, just the day before, and they were worried about how either of the couple would react to being out there again so soon.

"Gil would like to sit in the sunshine while he eats," Sara added, ignoring the sudden change in the room.

"Oh…" Jim nodded his head slowly. "Okay."

Sara and Gil made their way to the back door as the others gathered what they would need for dinner. As the two of them made their way across the patio Gil stopped in front of the patio chair that he had sat in the day before.

When he recalled that moment, Gil felt once again how he had wanted to be as far away from the house as he could. It was the pain in his leg combined with the dizziness caused by the anxiety of the moment that forced him to stop and drop himself in the plastic chair.

But on this day, Gil shook himself from the memory and reached for the chair. He turned it around from the way it was the day before and looked up at Sara. "W-We're heading in a n-new d-direction, r-right?"

Sara smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. If it were little, symbolic things like moving a chair that were going to help him move on than she would help him with every one. Sara grabbed the plastic chair, toted it across the yard and placed it on top of the two garbage cans.

Although confused, Gil looked at her with a smile and watched as she grabbed another chair nearby and put it the old chair's place. She faced it in the same direction Gil had positioned the former chair. Then Sara returned a grin. "Not just a new direction, but a new start."

"I l-love you." Gil chuckled.

"I love you too," Sara replied. She wondered if he would ever know how much her heart swelled every time she heard him laugh.

--------------------

Dinner had been good. It was the first time since his rescue that Gil enjoyed the company of his friends. They had not been loud or gotten carried away. They hadn't talked about anything to do with his ordeal or their present caseloads.

As the sun set, Gil felt the the cool, evening breeze in his hair and listened to his friends chat about everyday things. As Nick and Greg joked about each other as brothers would, Gil was happily reminded how his friends were his family.

As darkness began to fall upon them Jim and Nick stood and helped Sara as she began to clean up the dinner mess and take everything inside.

"What do you think, Griss, care to have your butt kicked at a game of chess?" Greg asked playfully. "I was the captain of my high school chess team."

Gil had been looking up at the sky, watching the stars as they began to peak out for their nightly dance. He looked at Greg and grinned.

"M-Maybe tom-morrow, G-Greg. I'm k-kind of t-tired tonight."

"Sure, Griss," Greg smiled back. "But don't think I'll forget."

Gil nodded and smiled as Sara came back outside and put her hand on his arm.

"Hey," she smiled as he looked up at her. "How are you feeling?"

"T-Tired and I hurt," Gil replied, his voice laced with exhaustion.

"Are you ready to change your bandages and go to bed than?" Gil nodded and she and Greg helped him up and back into the house.

After Nick and Greg said their goodbyes, Jim and Sara helped Gil upstairs. It had been a long day full of emotional and physical ups and down, so by the the time they reached the top of the stairs Gil could barely stand up on his own.

Jim, being mindful of the wounds under Gil's arm, took Gil's arm over his shoulders and supported his weight. "It's okay, buddy," Jim encouraged. "Just lean into me, I got you."

Gil sagged tiredly against his friend. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he breathed heavily.

When they reached the master bathroom Gil could no longer support himself and Jim had to hold him in a gentle bear hug while Sara pulled down Gil's pants. Jim eased Gil down onto the chair in the corner and stepped back.

Gil was overcome by a rush of dizziness and Jim and Sara jumped forward to catch him as he began to fall out of the chair. After they set him up in the chair again Gil let his eyes close and lifted a shaking hand to rub his forehead.

"Gil?" Sara squatted down in front of him and rested her hands on his knees. "Baby, are you okay?"

"D-D-Dizzy." It was all Gil could manage to say. Sara looked up at Jim and he saw the evident concern on her face.

"Do you want me to stay in here, in case he topples over again?" Sara nodded then turned back to Gil.

"Gil, honey, can Jim stay in here with us? In case you fall over again?" Gil didn't say anything for a long time.

"I'm not trying to intrude on your privacy, pal," Jim assured. "I just want to help."

Gil understood and nodded.

Jim helped Sara take off Gil's shirt then held his shoulders while Sara removed the bandages. Sara carefully inspected each of Gil's wounds. Although still gruesome they had all scabbed over, and it was obvious that they were all shrinking in size.

Sara informed Gil of his body's progress in a quiet, yet positive tone. Jim observed as Sara continued to constantly chatter as she helped with Gil. Jim couldn't remember ever hearing her talk this much in a single setting. When he quirked his eyebrow towards her, she smiled gently at him and continued on with her chatter as she finished caring for Gil's wounds.

After Gil's bandages had been changed and he was in his pajamas the urge to use the toilet hit him. Jim and Sara lifted him off the chair and all but carried him to the toilet. They stood on either side of him, keeping him upright, as his body emptied itself.

When Gil was done Jim held him in another gentle, bear hug as Sara washed him. Gil rested his face against Jim's shoulder and Jim tried to soothe him when he heard Gil try to muffle several cries of pain.

"Gil, how you doing, buddy?" Jim asked.

"M-Migraine." Gil replied, his voice muffled by Jim's shoulder.

"We're almost done, Gil," Sara said. "And then we'll have you medicated and in bed in no time. Just hang in there."

After his wash, Sara and Jim helped Gil into the bedroom and into bed. Jim got a glass of water then held Gil up so Sara could get his pills into his mouth without him choking on them. Jim laid Gil down on the bed and Sara covered him with the blankets. No sooner had Gil's head hit the pillow that he had fallen into a deep sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gil's sleep, although deep, was not restful. He was plagued by a new nightmare that night.

"You stand there and don't you fuckin' move." Shelling ordered and Gil obeyed.

Gil fearfully stood stock still, with his hands down by his sides. He had not realized that he was not alone until Shelling stepped forward and grabbed the person standing next to him. Shelling grabbed Sara's arm and pulled her away from Gil's side.

"Gil, help me." Sara begged.

Shelling began to roughly kiss Sara on the lips, but his eyes never left Gil's. Gil had never felt such a sense of fear in his life as what was caused by the crazed and savage look in Shelling's eyes. Gil's whole body trembled as Shelling began to fondle Sara's body.

Gil awoke in a cold sweat and panted for breath. He looked at Sara who lay quietly nestled at his side. Despite her peacefulness, he felt the walls close in on him and strangle the life out of him. He had to get out of the house. He couldn't breathe.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something seemed different as Sara slowly awoke from her sleep. She opened her eyes to see the clock on her side of the bed, it read 2:30. She rolled over to check on Gil and met cold sheets. She bolted upright and looked around the room. Gil was nowhere to be seen and the bathroom was dark. Fear gripped her heart as she ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I know, I know, some of you, if not all, are pretty upset with me for leaving you hanging like that. I already got a type written reprimand from my beta. She growled at me! So if any of you feel that you need to confirm her reprimand than type it up, make three copies, file one, keep one for yourself and burn the third:D And if any of you think that I am scared of hissing and growling sounds... I have gerbils -nothing can touch me!

By the way, I just reallized how short this is, sorry about that:( I'll be more mindful of the length in the future.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Hey everyone. I know this has taken a while to get out, but I had to cling to that damned wheel for dear life this week! LOL!!! I owe a huge thank you to JellyBeanChiChi nfor doing an awesome beta job on this chapter. You rock, JellyBean!

Warning: This chapter gets quite graphic at one point. Moonstarer it's time to pull out the candles again!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Two

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara quickly searched the whole house and when Gil was no where to be found she ran down to the guest room. "Jim," she knocked on the door before going into the room. "Jim, wake up." She went to the bedside and turned on the lamp before shaking his shoulder.

"Mmm… huh?" Jim said drowsily, as he rolled over to face her and had to shield his eyes from the lamp. "What's going on?

"Jim, I can't find Gil." Sara tried, unsuccessfully, to cover the panic in her voice.

"What?" He asked as he threw back the covers and jumped out of bed.

"I woke up and he wasn't in bed." She led him out of the bedroom and down the hall. "I've searched the whole house and I can't find him anywhere."

"What about the garage? Did you check the garage?"

"No," she stopped in her tracks and quickly turned to face him. "The patio."

"You check the patio and I'll check the garage," Jim said without fully comprehending what he might have been sending her into and jogged in the direction of the garage. As Sara ran for the patio images of Gil holding the gun to his head flashed through her mind. She slid open the glass door and stepped into the chilly night air, but stopped when she saw Gil's form in the light coming from the kitchen.

As she stepped up beside him Hank looked up at her from where he sat at his dad's side. Sara was somewhat relieved when she realized how calm the boxer was and she turned her attention to Gil.

"Gil… what are you doing out here, babe?"

"C-Couldn't s-sleep," he didn't take his eyes from the stars above. "N-Needed some f-fresh air."

Sara stepped up beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist as she breathed a sigh of relief. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her close as she rested her head on his shoulder.

When Jim had not found Gil in the garage he headed towards the patio looking for Sara. He was filled with relief when he found his two friends, in each others arms, staring up at the stars. He stepped up to Gil's other side and joined them in their search of the cosmos. The three companions were silent for a long time before Gil finally spoke.

"It's n-not over yet, is it?" Sara and Jim both looked at him. "Sh-Shelling's st-still out there, isn't he?"

There was a long pause before Jim confirmed it. "We're going to get him, Gil," he quietly assured. "We're going to find that son-of-a-bitch and put him away for life."

They stood in silence for several more minutes, watching the stars, and when a shooting a star streaked across the black backdrop each of them closed their eyes and silently made their own wish. Unannounced to one another they all unanimously wished that it all just be over.

Gil felt Sara shiver and rubbed her arm. "L-Let's g-go inside."

They helped Gil back to bed and when Sara nestled into his side once again she fell fast asleep, feeling secure in the knowledge that they would make it. That Gil would make it.

Gil, however, couldn't sleep. He lay under the covers and stare up at the ceiling as images of this new nightmare plagued his thoughts.

He wasn't the type to believe in prophetic dreams, but he couldn't push the nightmare out of his mind. The thought of that psycho Shelling even looking at Sara the way he had in Gil's dream, much less touching her, made Gil tremble with anger and fear. He decided in that moment that he would do whatever it took to protect her. No holds barred.

As the sun began to rise Gil's tiredness overtook him and he fell into a fitful sleep. The nightmare returned with a much greater intensity than before.

_Shelling began to tear Sara's clothes off. "Gil, help me!" Sara cried as Shelling ripped off her shirt and bra and began to bite her breasts. Gil was still frozen as if some unknown presence held him back and he watched the man of his worst nightmares brutalize the love of his life.  
_

"No… don't," Gil softly cried in his sleep as his whole body shook.

The noise and movement woke Sara and she spooned Gil and gently caressed his face.

"Gil, baby, wake up."

Gil awoke and swung his arm back, lashing out at his nightmare, and struggled momentarily when Sara grabbed his wrist in self-defense. "It's okay, honey, it's all right."

"S-S-Sara?" There was no mistaking his frightened tone.

"Yeah, it's me," she soothingly rubbed his arm and rested her head against his as she whispered into his ear. "You're safe, no one's going to hurt you."

Sara held him close for a while and gently ran her fingers through his curls. While Sara's ministrations and voice somewhat relaxed Gil, he still couldn't shake the image of Shelling's menacing eyes.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil pushed past his nightmares and tiredness and concentrated on his daily tasks. He was determined to take control of his life again and it began with regaining his independence.

When Gil no longer felt like lying in bed he got up and began to make his way to the bathroom. Sara, who had drifted back into a light sleep, awoke when she felt the mattress move. "Gil, where are you going?" she asked as she stifled a yawn.

"I d-don't feel like sleeping anymore, so I'm g-going to take my shower." Sara got out of bed and followed him into the bathroom. "I c-can d-do this myself." She heard the determination in his voice and didn't want to start the day with an argument.

"Well… okay… what if I just go in with you in case you need me and I'll take my shower too."

Gil was a little agitated that she wouldn't just let him do it on his own but recognized her willingness to compromise. Gil had needed little assistance other than washing his back and taking off the old bandages and applying clean ones.

Sara had wanted to help Gil with his breakfast but, again, he was insistent on doing it himself as well. He poured his own cereal, without much mess, but when he tried to butter his toast it broke apart in his hand. Gil bit back his frustration and tried again, ending with the same results. On slice number four he slammed the knife down on the counter. Sara took a deep, calming breath before approaching him.

"Gil, let me help you." She offered as she reached to take the knife that he had picked back up.

"I d-don't want your help!" Gil replied angrily as he pulled out of her grasp.

"Then what do you want?" Sara retorted as her own frustration quickly got the best of her.

"I want m-my life b-b-back!" He nearly yelled in her face.

"Hey," she cupped his face when he tried to look away. "You are getting your life back by not giving up and trying to do things for yourself. So what if you crumble a couple of pieces of toast, we have a whole loaf of bread."

"W-Waste a whole loaf of b-bread for t-two slices of toast?" Gil looked at her incredulously.

"You don't have to waste it, just let me help you. I don't want to do it for you, I want to help you do it for yourself."

After a moment's pause, Gil nodded and relaxed as Sara stepped up close behind him and wrapped her arms around him, gently taking hold of his wrists, steadying them but not guiding them. Her hot breath in his ear as she spoke to him made his body tingle.

"You just have to be patient." Sara spoke softly and he nodded his head as he looked over his shoulder at her.

They both felt the electricity of the moment. Sara slowly ran her hands up his arms as they maintained eye contact and at her prompting he turned to face her. She felt a sensation growing in her that she hadn't felt since the day before he had been kidnapped when he had snuck up behind her in the kitchen and had begun pressing kisses to the back of her neck. Sara leaned in and began to kiss him, softly, on the lips. When Gil didn't pull back her arms snaked up to wrap around his neck and she began to caress the back of his head with one of her hands, holding his head in place, while the other massaged the back of his neck.

Gil's hands steadied as they rested upon Sara's waist. While her fingers became lost in Gil's curly locks, a tingling in Sara's lower belly grew and intensified. Gil loved the feel of her kiss and wanted more as he pushed his tongue between her lips and she opened her mouth, sucking his tongue into her mouth as she increased her grip on his hair.

Then, painful images flashed in Gil's memory. He remembered his kidnappers taking turns as they grabbed his hair and used him roughly as he performed forced oral on each of them. Gil broke the kiss with Sara and stepped back.

"What's wrong, baby?" Sara asked as she panted for breath.

"N-Nothing," Gil replied as he looked down at the floor. He didn't want to discuss those memories, they were still too painful and embarrassing. "I… um…" He looked down at his bandaged hand, desperate to change the subject. "I think you're right. I think I should g-go and see a d-doctor about my hand."

Sara tried to shield him from her disappointment. She was so ready and had thought that he was, too. But just as she told him moments before, she had to be patient.

"Okay, I'll call the hospital and see if Doctor Diller can fit you in."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Stephen Diller had been surprised and pleased when he walked into the room to see Gil and Sara waiting for him.

"Good morning," He greeted them cheerfully and Sara returned the greeting while Gil only nodded. "How are you both today?"

Sara and Gil both said, "Fine."

"So, what can I do for you today?" He asked Gil directly.

"I had an… accident." Gil said as he held out his injured hand. "S-Sara thought I should have it l-looked at."

Diller gently took his patients hand and unwrapped the bandages. He carefully examined the wound and asked Gil what he had done to get such deep wounds.

"I… I… hit it ag-gainst something."

Diller looked between them, suspiciously, but let it drop to both Gil and Sara's relief. He cleaned the wound thoroughly and began to re-wrap it.

"You did a good job bandaging this, Sara, you might have another avocation in your future." Sara only smiled and thanked him. "So, Gil, have you been able to meet with a therapist yet?"

Sara felt the tension in the room grow but before she could change the subject or answer for Gil or even just begin her babbling again, Gil surprised her and responded to the doctor's question.

"Yes. I'm seeing D-Doctor T-Tolliver again t-tomorrow."

"Good," Diller said with a kind smile. "Stacey's a good man if you give him a chance. Now, Gil, I want to talk to you about your other therapies." While Diller was careful about the words he used he was pleasantly surprised at how responsive Gil was to physical and speech therapy. "I think you should have therapy for your knee three times a week. And understand, Gil, it will take time. But I think that you will notice an improvement with your speech in a shorter amount of time. I can already tell that there is marked improvement from the last time that we met."

By the time Gil and Sara had left the hospital he had made his first appointment with the therapists who Diller had recommended and he was feeling a little brighter about his new determination to take his life back.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_Reggie Shelling lay on his back as blood ran profusely from his broken nose. "Please!" He begged the man that straddled his waist pinning him to the floor. "I'm sorry! Please, no more!"_

_Shelling's face had been battered over and over and most of his ribs were broken by the man's knee that had been repeatedly dropped onto Reggie's chest._

_Another punch to his mouth broke three of Shelling's teeth, which he compulsively swallowed with a mouthful of his own blood. The piercing, blue eyes looked down on him mercilessly as the man on top of Shelling drilled his fist into Reggie's face again and again and again._

_Warm, sticky blood splattered up onto the man's face but he didn't notice, he was too focused on the form below him that looked more and more like ground meat than a person with each hit it took. The man grabbed a handful of Shelling's dark, slicked back hair and yanked his head up._

_"How do you fucking like it?!" The man screamed into Shelling's face as spit flew from his mouth. "Do you fucking like it?!"_

_He slammed Shelling's head down onto the concrete again and again. Not noticing as blood continued to splatter onto his face and into the graying curls which still seemed to grace his head through the horrifying sight. But he stopped when Shelling's blood had pooled and splattered across the gray, concrete surface and his head was mush._

"Gil, are you okay?" Sara asked as she stepped in front of him.

The ride home had been quiet and the whole time she felt like there was something seething from Gil, a malice that made her feel cold and frightened. His eyes had been blank, but now, as she looked at him where he sat on the couch with his bad leg propped up on the coffee table his eyes no longer conveyed blank expression. Now as she looked into his eyes she saw something there that she could only label as something sinister. Something evil, and it disturbed her deeply.

"F-Fine." Gil mumbled and quickly looked down at the floor.

"Are you sure?"

"I s-said I'm f-fine." The agitation in his voice was growing thick again and Sara let it drop as she was afraid of him going into another fit of rage and hurting himself again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The next day Sara had driven Gil to his appointment with Stacey. The last two days had gradually gotten better for Gil. He had slowly started to do things for himself without needing assistance. He had made messes too, in the process, and Sara stood back and observed as he insisted on cleaning up his messes the best he could.

Now as he sat on Stacey's sofa, with his leg propped up, he felt a little more at ease than he had just a few days ago.

"How are today, Gil?" Stacey asked as he sat down in the armchair across from his patient.

"G-Good." Gil frowned. "Well, b-better."

"Better but not good." Stacey repeated. "Gil, if you don't mind me saying, I notice your demeanor today is quite different from last time we spoke. I think that is a marketable and wonderful improvement. May I ask what might have prompted your change in attitude."

"I…" Gil blushed a little. "I d-decided that I want my l-life b-back."

"That's wonderful, Gil." Stacey's smile was genuine. "What made you come to this decision?"

"I…" Gil looked down at his hands where they lay, shaking, in his lap. "I l-lost c-control the other d-day… and… I hurt S-Sara." Gil looked up expecting to see Stacey frowning at him for the admission, but Stacey quietly sat in his chair and listened intently. "And a friend t-talked to me about n-not g-giving up."

"That's wonderful, Gil. Friends can be a great asset in life. Do you have many friends that are like that?"

"A few." Gil nodded. "They have been a g-great c-comfort and sup-port since I was rescued."

"Well, let's talk about comfort. How do they comfort you?"

Gil thought for a long moment before he had been able to find the right answer and told Stacey of the day before, when Al had come over for a visit.

_Sara had walked into the living room with Al close behind and announced his arrival. Gil looked up, surprised to see his friend._

_"Hi, Al." Gil smiled. "W-What are you d-doing here?"_

_"Well, I have the night off so I thought I would come and see how you're doing and demand my rematch."_

_"R-Rematch?"_

_"Dominoes?" Al encouraged him to remember. "We played a month ago and you claimed that you won but I disputed it and you ran off claiming that you had some scene to go to. A likely story."_

_Gil smirked and told Al to stop griping and sit down. Sara laughed as she grabbed the box of dominoes from the shelf and set them on the card table between the two men, then excused herself to take a nap._

_Gil and Al had set for some time playing the tile game, in companionable silence. The only conversation between them had been the calling of their moves and points. It had not been uncomfortable but Al had suggested quelling the silence._

_"Gil, what do you say we put on some music?"_

_"That's f-fine, Al."_

_Al made his way over to the stereo and looked through the rack of Cd's. "Do you prefer anything, Gil?"_

_"N-No, just n-not too loud. I d-don't w-want to w-wake Sara or J-Jim."_

_Al selected one of Gil's Vivaldi concerto's and slipped the disc into the player. As he sat back down on his chair he confirmed that it was his turn and took it. "Your turn, Gil." Al said as he watched the maze of tiles, looking for his next move._

_When Gil didn't respond Al looked up to tease his friend but stopped himself when he saw the teary, horrified look in Gil's eyes._

_"Gil? What's wrong?"_

_"P-P-Please, t-turn it off." Gil begged and Al hurried across the room and did so._

_He came back over to the table and pulled his chair around to sit down next to Gil who was trying to control himself, without much success._

_"I'm sorry, Gil, I didn't know." Al tried to comfort his friend. "Do you want to talk about it?"_

_"I… I…" Gil stammered then closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his sobs and swallowed against the lump in his throat. "They p-p-played that w-when they w-whipped m-me."_

_Al didn't know what to say. There was nothing that he could say so he sat next to his friend and put a comforting arm around Gil's shoulders as he lost control again and openly wept._

"How did it make you feel, to let Al see you like that?"

"I...," Gil began as he recalled his emotion from that moment. "I f-felt that it was okay to b-be open with him. The first day in the hospital, Al examined me b-because... I just c-couldn't... I wasn't c-comfortable with Dr. Diller..."

"You suffered a terrible trauma, Gil," Stacey said. "That is not something to be embarrassed about or ashamed of. And Dr. Diller understood."

"He allowed Al to see me," Gil recalled. "After the exam, Al... let me know he understood what I was g-going through. He understands l-loss. He l-lost his l-legs several years ago."

"And that probably makes it easier to be open with your friend, Al," Stacey confirmed.

Gil nodded and something dawned on him. "I d-don't know if I c-could have told that to J-Jim or Sara."

"And that doesn't make that a bad thing, Gil. It's good you had someone you could connect with, but you just have to make sure you don't shut out the people you love," Stacey said.

"I know," Gil said. "I-I ... some-sometimes I j-just c-can't tell them everything."

Stacey shifted just a bit before he spoke. "Gil, I wanted to tell you about a group who meets once a week, here in Vegas. It is made up of men who had been raped and are working to move forward, as you are."

Although Stacey noticed Gil fidgeting nervously, he continued. "I think you could benefit from a support group like that. I'm sure there are things you don't feel like discussing with Sara or Jim or me, but you might find that you are not alone in your feelings."

"I'm not sure about it."

"I understand that, but I would like you to consider it. These men understand the unique loss you feel, and the meeting's are strictly confidential. It's something to think about."

"I w-will," Gil said sincerely.

Stacey nodded. "Would you like to talk about your home life?"

"I'm w-worried about Sara," Gil said.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Be kind. See that lonely, little button down there? It's oh so lonely and would love your company:D Have a great weekend everyone!


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: You all have been asking me, so here is your answer:D I want to thank JellyBean for doing an awesome beta job and being a rockin' collaborator. You've pulled me through some rough spots. (did I just say rockin'?*rolls eyes*) I also want to thank all of my readers and especially those of you who have taken the time to write a review. We writers love to have our ego's stroked and I like to know what you think:)

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Three

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sara, you c-can't st-stay cooped up in here with me d-day and night," said Gil, who had been trying to reason with Sara for twenty minutes. "It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to the lab. They need you there."

"You haven't even been home for two weeks, Gil. You're still having nightmares. You still can't get around very well." Sara's voice drifted off. Part of her wanted to go back to work just to return to a semblance of normal life. And the other part of her felt guilty for wanting to leave Gil when he wasn't completely healed.

I wonder if he ever will be? Sara thought to herself.

"I know w-what you're thinking, Sara, so stop it." Gil smiled.

"Really? What am I thinking?"

"You d-don't want to leave me here alone b-because I'm not... myself."

Gil struggled with the last word not because of his stutter, but because it was hard to admit what was true. Sara noticed and looked at him. Along with a tinge of embarrassment, Sara saw a hint of acceptance and humility in his admission.

"You're always you, Gil. And what you've done in the past few days... it's amazed me."

"But I'm still not myself... not G-Gil G-Grissom CSI."

Sara teetered between wanting to cry because he was right and wanting to chastise him because he can't be right. But before she could do anything, Gil spoke up again. "That d-doesn't mean that I c-can't stay by myself. Sara g-go back to work. You need it."

Sara looked down at the floor. She hated saying what was on her heart and mind, and she knew it would make him angry. "I can't... I can't leave you alone, Gil." She glanced up to see his brow furrow then looked down again. "Someone has to be here with you, I just can't bare the thought that..." Tears filled her eyes as she finally looked up at him and he knew what she was thinking.

Gil felt angry at first. Angry that she didn't trust him and angry that she looked at him the way she was. Then he remembered what Stacey had said in their last session, a few days ago. _You can't look at their kindness and concern through a "pity lens"_

While this still might be true for some people, Gil had to learn to understand what the ordeal was doing to his loved ones, especially Sara. Shelling and his crew didn't just upend Gil's life, they did it to Sara's as well.

Even more so, Gil thought to himself. My actions allowed her to think that way.

Gil had to look beyond his own feelings and learn to be supportive and caring of Sara's feelings. So he reacted to Sara's concerns in a way that she never expected. He gave in. "You're right, I'm sorry. W-What if o-one of the team stays here on the nights that you w-work? Then you w-won't have to w-worry about me." He saw the doubt in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"It's okay to w-want to g-go. You're still Sara."

Sara shook her head, bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath. "I'll try to get out early when I can. And no over time..."

"If you c-can help it," Gil interrupted. "I've heard that before."

The two just looked at each other. "You know," Sara said, putting her arms around Gil's neck. "Gil Grissom may not be able to work as a CSI yet, but he certainly is Gil Grissom."

"Well, that's good to know." Gil smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Let's make a couple of phone calls."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Later that afternoon Warrick arrived in time for Sara to give him a few last minute instructions before rushing off to swing shift. Smith, one of the CSIs who worked swing had been helping to cover for graveyard. Both Gil and Sara thought that it would be a good idea to give him a night off.

As Sara shot out her instructions, the only words Warrick was able to say was, "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

Truthfully, Gil still felt annoyed that everyone felt that he couldn't be left alone, but he calmly reminded himself that it was his own fault. If he had not tried to kill himself, no matter what the reason, they would not feel so overprotective of their friend.

"You hungry, Griss?" Warrick asked as it neared dinner time.

"G-Getting there." Gil replied truthfully, to his friend's surprise and delight.

"Great, me too. What do you feel like having?" Gil shrugged. "Pizza, Chinese, Mexican?"

Gil had been unable to decide and the more Warrick asked the more confused he felt, so Warrick chose for both of them.

After they had finished dinner and they had cleaned up the mess Warrick offered to play Gil a game of chess. Gil had been somewhat pleased to get through half of the game before he was overtaken by tiredness. Warrick helped him upstairs, but stepped aside to allow Gil to get ready for bed on his own. Once Warrick knew Gil was in bed, he said his goodnight through door left ajar and went downstairs.

Catherine was to relieve Warrick in time for his graveyard shift. She arrived later than expected and apologized all over herself for making Warrick late.

"Don't worry about it," Warrick jokingly chastised. "I'm sure Nick and Sara can manage without me for an hour or so."

They both laughed as Catherine finished making the sandwich that she had started and tossed the knife into the sink and laughed as she turned around to face the younger man.

"Did you see that shirt that Hodges was wearing last night?"

"I tried not to." Warrick laughed and rolled his eyes.

Their joy was short lived when they heard the sudden screams coming from the upstairs They bolted up the stairs and Warrick was the first one through the master bedroom door to see Gil, wide-eyed and drenched with sweat, sitting up on the bed with the last of his breath escaping in the terrified noise.

Gil didn't recognize Warrick when he first came into the bedroom to ease his friend. "It's okay, Griss, it's okay! Wake up!" Warrick said in a tone that he hoped didn't sound as frantic as he felt.

Gil lashed out with his fist causing Warrick to dodge and swing around to sit on the bed behind Gil. Warrick wrapped his long arms around Gil's upper body, holding Gil close to himself as the older man struggled and began screaming anew.

"Calm down, Gil, it's all right!" Catherine said as she sat down on the bed next to him and grabbed his arms. "You're safe. Don't be scared."

As Gil began to recognize his surroundings, and then his friends, he stopped struggling against them. Exhausted by his nightmare Gil slumped back against Warrick and openly wept. Warrick held him close and when Gil covered his face with his hands, to hide the shame he felt for crying in front of them, Warrick put a hand over Gil's, solidifying his care for his mentor.

"You m-must th-think I'm a c-c-coward." Gil said as he began to calm back down.

"No, man," Warrick said softly. "You sacrificed everything to save Greg. No one could think you were a coward after doing that."

The three of them sat on the bed for a few minutes, until Gil had calmed and sat up with their help. He was soaked with sweat and shaking violently from his nightmare. Neither Catherine or Warrick had seen him this bad since his last seizure and both were surprised that he hadn't had one as a result.

"Griss," Warrick said as he stood up. "I'm going to get you a drink and some dry clothes. Do you need anything else? Medication or something?"

Gil repeatedly rubbed his hand over his head and the back of his neck. His shaking continued. "J-J-Just w-w-w-water, p-p-please."

Warrick nodded and left the room. Catherine stayed seated and stared straight ahead as she gently rubbed Gil's arm. For a full minute it was silent before Catherine spoke. "The dreams are getting really bad, aren't they?"

Gil looked down at the floor. But she could still see his head nod in the affirmative.

"Have you told Sara about them?"

With his head still downcast, he shook his head, "No."

"So, can you sleep?"

Gil sighed. He didn't want to admit that sleeping was hard, but sleeping by himself was going to be nearly impossible. "I-I-I… the n-n-nightmares…"

"They're rough. I understand."

Warrick came in with a glass of cold water and retrieved clean clothes from Gil's dresser. While Gil said he would be able to change out of his pants himself in the bathroom, the physical and mental stress of the nightmare made it painful for him to change out of his shirt. Without a word his friends lifted him out of his tee shirt and helped him put on a clean one. With Warrick's help Gil made it to the bathroom, but he was able to change and relieve himself without assistance.

"You gonna be okay here by yourself?" Warrick's concern was evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Catherine replied as she tried to restrain her troubled sigh.

"He seems to be in pretty bad shape. You should probably stay in here with him." Catherine nodded her agreement.

Gil opened the door to the bathroom and Warrick got off the bed to help Gil get settled in the bed.

"Griss, I'm gonna get going. I'm sure a hot scene awaits. You gonna be okay?"

If it weren't for the expression held in Gil's eyes, maybe his reply of, "Sure, W-Warrick. I'm okay," would have been believable.

But his eyes showed apprehension, exhaustion and fear. But Warrick didn't want Gil to know that he wasn't fooling the young man. "Okay, Grissom. You take care, you hear? Call if you need anything."

After receivingWith a smile, a nod and a whisper of "Thanks," Warrick left.

Gil gave Catherine a questioning look as she toed off her shoes. "Aren't you sleeping d-downstairs?"

"How about I stay up here."

Once again, Gil's eyes became downcast. "You d-don't…"

"Gil, it's okay. You don't have to ask." Catherine said as she climbed onto the bed. "Come on. Get under the covers. You're exhausted. I'll take Sara's side."

With a comfortable amount of space between them, Catherine rested her hand on Gil's arm.

"Thank you, C-Cath."

"Goodnight, Gil."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Sara got home a little later than usual -- 8:45 a.m. She had not seen Warrick all night and had not called the townhouse since earlier that evening when she had spoken to Gil before he went to bed. She had wanted to call the house several times during her shift but didn't want to wake Gil or Catherine, so she restrained herself.

When she went into the bedroom, it surprised her to see Catherine asleep on her bed with a hand on Gil's arm. When Sara took a step inside Catherine woke up and gently rose on the bed, careful not to wake her bed mate.

When she saw Sara she smiled, and Sara smiled right back. "Sleeping with my man, huh?" Sara joked in a low whisper.

Catherine let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, he's a real tiger in bed, this one."

Catherine rose and both women watched as Gil stirred a bit. While Sara looked at him lovingly, concern etched on Catherine's face. "Come on," she said as she tried to lead Sara out of the room. "Let's have some coffee."

Sara nodded and placed a soft kiss on Gil's forehead. She then left the room, quietly closed the door and joined Catherine in the hall. "Cath, did something happen?"

"Right before Warrick left Gil had a nightmare… a bad one," Catherine explained as the two walked to the kitchen. Catherine told Sara what had happened and how he woke several more times, frightened and shaking.

"His therapist said that the nightmares would get worse before they got better," Sara said as she made a fresh batch of coffee. "I think him opening up in therapy is making him more susceptible to night terrors. Plus I think he's so anxious that there's been no progress in his case. And I think it bothers him that I've been spending so much time with him and not being able to go to work or go out and leave him. All that weighs down on him."

Catherine accepted a cup of coffee from Sara and stirred in some sweetener. "Is he getting better?"

"Yes," Sara said in a cautious tone. "There are good moments and bad moments."

"And how are you doing?" Catherine said. Sara shrugged, but Catherine wouldn't let her go so easy. "Sara, it's got to be hard on you. I'm sure everything is weighing down on you too… Hon… are you seeing a therapist?"

Sara took a quick sip of coffee and grimaced. More from the question than the beverage. "There'll be time for me when he gets a little better…"

"No," Catherine said. "Unacceptable. I'm not going to watch you do this to yourself."

"Cath, really," Sara said with conviction.

"Sara, don't. I know what's going on your head. You're not his mother. You're his lover. His soul mate," Catherine caught the blush rising up Sara's neck. "You're in a relationship with him and right now his wounds are your wounds. You can't expect him to move forward if you're not moving forward. Those nightmares he had this morning just about sapped me dry. At one point he just screamed for mercy, and it took me twenty minutes to calm him down."

"Catherine, I'm sorry you had to go through that," Sara said with remorse.

"I'm not. At the very least, my being here meant that you didn't have to deal with it. In some way I gave you respite. Don't feel guilty, Sara. Please. I stayed because I wanted to help, not because I wanted to make either of you through a guilt trip."

Sara's resolve began to fade. She could feel the tears emerging. She looked at Catherine and the dam broke. "I don't know what to do… for me or for him. At one point he's Gil and another he's so lost and sometimes," Sara thought back to the day when she saw that sinister look in his eyes. "Sometimes… he's not himself at all."

Catherine approached Sara and let the younger woman continue in whatever direction she wanted, whether it was searching for sympathy, venting out her anger or spilling her confused feelings. But Sara just paced and shut down. "Sara. Don't stop talking. Let it out, hon."

"No! I have to be stronger than this!"

"Okay! Than be strong enough to tell the truth and hear the truth!"

"FINE! I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN DO THIS!" Sara yelled straight in Catherine's face.

Catherine grabbed Sara's shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "Yes. You. Can. And you know what, Sara? You will. Because here is the truth you need to hear. You can do it, but you need help. Not help for Gil. Help for Sara."

Sara looked at Catherine with tears in her eyes, but she allowed Catherine to continue. "And if Jim can't be here with Gil when you go to therapy for yourself, you're going to bring Gil to my place so he can stay with me and Lindsey. And this is going to happen immediately. You got it?"

As Sara felt Catherine's grip on her shoulders loosen, Catherine felt Sara leaning towards her. Catherine pulled Sara into a strong embrace.

"Okay, Catherine." Sara said as she finally stepped back from the hug.

"You'll call this morning?"

Sara nodded her head and took a step back. "I'll make the call after I check on Gil."

As Sara made her way up the stairs Catherine quickly caught her arm. Sara was surprised to see tears welling in Catherine's eyes. "Sara? Thank you."

"Cath, I promise you. The number is in the bedroom." Sara turned to leave before either of them started to cry.

Catherine swiped at her eyes and got her cell phone from her pocket. She had to make a call herself.

"Conrad? It's Catherine. You've left us out long enough… You know exactly what I'm talking about…What do I want? Well, what I need is to know exactly what is going on with Gil's case, and what I want is the team to be on the case immediately… I don't care right now about protocol. I want to be updated and I want it to happen this morning. … Fine. … I'll be at the lab in an hour."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Sara entered the bedroom, she saw Hank with his paws on the bed saying "Good morning" to his dad. Gil was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but Hank was quick to get off the bed when he realized that Sara was in the room.

"That's okay, boy. Paws on the bed are allowed." Sara gave him a vigorous scratch that was most appreciated by the oversized pooch. Soon enough, Hank went on his way to let Sara say hello to Gil. "Hi. I noticed you had company last night."

Although Sara meant the comment as a joke, Gil still felt ashamed of having Catherine stay with him. "I told her she d-didn't have to st-stay with m-me."

"Hey," Sara said as she sat down next to him. "I was joking with you. Catherine was worried about you. I'm glad she was here for you."

Gil stood up gingerly. He grabbed his new cane from the night stand. "How was your night?"

"Busy. I got a lot done. But I want to know about your night. I know you haven't been sleeping much, but are the dreams getting worse?" Sara watched as Gil fiddled with the top of his cane. "There's no need for you to change the subject, or worse, lie to me, Gil. Are they?"

"Yes." Gil replied in a quiet voice.

She stood and went to her nightstand. "Look, I promised Catherine that I would make a phone call. But do you want to talk about the nightmares?"

"No."

Sara sighed. "Gil, you can trust me. You should try and talk about it."

"I talked about them enough. P-Please… I d-don't w-want to fight…"

"Okay, okay," Sara could tell that he was getting agitated. "I don't want to fight either.

"Thank you. I'll let you m-make you c-call."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With a shower and a fresh outfit, Catherine felt like she could take on the world. But at that moment she only had her sights set on one thing -- getting Conrad Ecklie to agree to pass Gil's case to grave. It was a battle she knew would begin with a soft rap on his door.

"Morning, Conrad."

"Catherine," Conrad said, rising form his desk. "So you were at Gil's. How is he?"

"Terrible," Catherine said tersely as she stood in front of Conrad's desk. "I mean, have you seen him, Conrad? He's about twenty pounds lighter, he's a nervous wreck and I don't think he's had a solid six hours of sleep since he was unconscious in the hospital."

Conrad gestured for Catherine to sit, which she did not. "Please. Catherine. Sit. This isn't a Mexican stand-off."

Catherine conceded and sat down.

"It's true. I haven't seen Gil since he was in the hospital that first day. And, I admit, I don't want to see him like that," Conrad said. "But, Catherine, don't think because I haven't seen him that his case isn't a priority."

"Well, Conrad, don't think that small comment is going to keep me from working the case," Catherine retorted. "Ask me how Gil's knee is, Conrad."

"What are you talking about, Catherine? He has a knee brace. I'm sure it's healing fine."

"Yeah, it probably would… if he didn't jump out of bed after every nightmare and try to run for the door full speed, which he can't do because he is face first on the floor the minute he puts weight on his knee."

Conrad grimaced at the thought, but Catherine continued. "But that's not even the worst part of the nightmare. Let me tell you about my morning, Conrad. Gil woke up from three, separate nightmares. And when I say woke up, I mean Gil thrashed in his bed and pleaded for mercy just like he did on those goddamn videos. When he finally opened his eyes and realized that Sara wasn't around he was convinced Shelling kidnapped Sara and was raping her. Twenty minutes, Conrad. It took me twenty minutes just to calm him down enough to realize that Sara was at work and was fine."

The memory was crystal clear in Catherine's mind.

_She was lying next to Gil. He had already been awake twice before from night terrors. At five a.m. Catherine awoke to screaming. With his eyes shut tight, Gil screamed out, begging for mercy. She made out Shelling's name. Then he began to beg, "NO PLEASE DON'T! I BEG YOU! DON'T! BEAT ME! RAPE ME! PLEASE DON'T DO THAT TO HER!"_

_Catherine felt that she had no choice but to shake Gil awake. As he wailed in emotional pain Catherine called out his name, "Gil! IT'S CATHERINE! WAKE UP!" On the fourth try Catherine finally reached Gil and he woke. He immediately shot up and searched the room with his eyes. "Where is she? WHERE'S SARA?!"_

_Catherine kept her hands on Gil's shoulders. "Gil. Calm down. She's at work."_

_"NO! HE HAS HER!" Despite his wounded knee, Gil jumped out of bed and immediately fell to the floor. The audible crunch made Catherine cringe, but Gil still tried to crawl to the door and search for Sara._

_Catherine reached down and tried to grab Gil's waist. "GIL! STOP IT! SHE'S AT WORK."_

_Gil turned around. He was sweaty and shaking again. Catherine couldn't tell if those were symptoms of his physical pain or his emotional turmoil. Either way, she saw the same fear, apprehension and exhaustion in his eyes that she had seen there before. "Cath… I-I-I have to f-find her. He's g-got her."_

_Catherine knelt on the floor and tried to get Gil to sit up. "Who's got her?"_

_"SHELLING! HE'S RAPING HER!"_

_Catherine sat down next to Gil, who continued to shake and fidget. "Gil. Stop." It was as if she was wrestling with an oversize child who wouldn't listen. "Gil. Please. STOP IT!" She got him to sit and stop moving. "You were having a nightmare. Sara's at work, and will be back in a few hours. She's right now at a scene with Jim or one of the other detectives and a bunch of cops. Shelling does not have her."_

_Gil shivered. The fog of the nightmare lifted. He realized where he was and who was with him. "Right. …I'm sorry. It... it just seemed so real."_

_"It's okay. Can you get up?"_

_"I need," Gil winced. His movements of a few moments ago finally caught up to him. "I need my c-cane, please."_

_Catherine handed him his cane and with her help, he was able rise and return to the bed. "Is that what you've been dreaming all night? Shelling getting Sara?"_

_He nodded. "I'm w-watching it h-happen. I'm w-watching him h-hurt her and I c-can't d-do anything." Gil's nerves seemed shot. "He's still out there and he c-could g-grab her."_

_"Gil, don't think like that. I don't want you to worry. That will never happen."_

_"C-Catherine. You know you c-can't m-make a p-p-promise like that to a v-victim."_

_Catherine became dumbstruck. It was difficult to hear Gil Grissom refer to himself as a 'victim.' But he was. Yet at the moment, Catherine was a friend… a friend who happened to be a CSI. She squatted down in front of him and took his shaking hands in her own steady ones._

_"Gil, I'm telling you as your friend, I will make sure that when Sara is on a scene, someone is with her. And I'm telling you, Gil. We will get Shelling. Please don't lose faith in us."_

_Gil took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to calm down and nodded his head. "Okay, C-Catherine. I'm sorry. I trust you. I'm j-just… he's out there and she'll n-never b-be safe. I c-can't save her from him." His words were breaking her heart._

_"We'll get him, Gil. Shelling will not be out there forever._

As those words floated in Catherine's head, she felt renewed in her fight to gain control of Gil's case. "Conrad, I sat there and promised Gil that we would get Shelling, and I'm not breaking that promise to him," Catherine continued. "There has to be something we can do. You're slammed with the murder of the supermarket heiress and the casino club drug case. Pass Gil's case to me. It can still go through you, but we can do all of the legwork."

"Catherine, if I do this your team can not run loose. Things have to go through me," Conrad said. "For Gil's sake, I want this to go as smoothly as possible."

"I understand. I do. I just don't want this to be lost in the shuffle. We're at your disposal."

Conrad sighed and retrieved the file. "We've run into a dead end with his employment records. The last job that he is on file for holding legally was flipping burgers at a local McDonalds when he was sixteen."

"The last job that he did legally?" Catherine confirmed and Conrad nodded. "What about after that?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I don't know about the rest of you, but my beta was a little upset with my ending. As a matter of fact she called me 'Dastardly.' LOL!!! If you have similar words that YOU would like to call me than just hit that little button down there. The one that's shaped like a candy bar. *mmm, candy*


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I know you guys (erm, girls;) have been waiting a week for this and I am sorry for that. Now that we are getting into the nitty gritty, not that the last few chapters weren't, it is becoming a little more difficult and I fear that I am losing some steam. A big thank you goes out to JellyBean for doing an awesome job as a beta and a phenomenal job as a collaborator. I couldn't do it without you.**

**Warning: This one gets pretty graphic. So you might want to cover your eyes. You know what; you might just want to skip this chapter all together.**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Four

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine had slept little during her night with Gil and was exhausted but as soon as she had gotten her hands on Gil's case records she felt revitalized. She had called Warrick to give her a hand and when he walked into the conference room she didn't even look up from the folder.

"Whatcha got?" Warrick asked as he sat down beside her.

"I have been going over these files for hours, trying to find some connection between Denalgio and Shelling. Denalgio has quite a history, including his juvenile file — fighting, assaults on school officials. He was arrested for possession and selling of cocaine. He beat up one of his foster fathers when he was fifteen."

"Shelling is a mystery though," Catherine continued. "Denalgio and Shelling appeared to have attended the same high school, but there are no records here that say they were connected. Reggie Shelling has no record whatsoever."

They both shook their heads as Catherine continued to flip through Denalgio's file. She stopped when something caught her eye and held it out for Warrick to see. "Look who is in the interrogation logs the night Denalgio was arrested."

"Reggie Shelling?" Warrick's brow rose. "Who did the interview?"

Catherine sighed as she shook her head. "Detective Martin… I remember him, he retired eight years ago. Not overly dedicated to his job, and was never very hard in the interrogation room."

"So, did Grissom have any contact with Shelling at the scene?" Warrick asked, looking over at the notes.

Catherine shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe he might remember something. I called him about an hour ago and said that I was going to drop by."

Warrick studied the interview. "I wonder if he was running numbers for the fight. That could have been why he was there. That would have put him in the same circles as Denalgio."

Catherine nodded her head. "That's an interesting theory. If they were friends in high school, they may have been running a scam together. Or even business partners."

"Well, if he's still up to his bookie ways, that might be one way to find him," Warrick said. "But I'm thinking he's moved on to bigger things."

"That might be a better possibility," Catherine said.

"What about John Shelling's file?" Warrick asked as he began to flip through the file's pages. "Did you find anything there?"

"Not really. Grissom and Brass did the interrogation, with his lawyer present. He didn't even mention a brother, and I remember that case."

"This looks like a case Grissom would have had a hard time with," Warrick said, recalling his supervisor's disdain for people who hurt children.

"John Shelling never gave any indication of why he killed his daughters," Catherine said. "I know Gil talks about the important aspect of our job is 'the how, not the why,' but that case really got to him."

"Yeah, well, we'll never know since John Shelling is dead." As Warrick spoke, he noticed Catherine got up to leave but still looked at the Denalgio file. "You want me to work the bookie angle?"

Catherine paused. She seemed to be lost on a certain piece of information in Denalgio's file.

"Hey, Cath," Warrick said. "You okay?"

Catherine quickly closed the file and gave a tense smile to her colleague. "Yeah, I'm going to head to Grissom's."

"Sure. Let me know what you find."

She nodded as she left.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

It was the date on the case file that got to Catherine. It's that not she remembered every instance when Lindsey was sick, but a mother never forgets when a fever puts her six-year-old child in the hospital. During those instances some mothers even remembered the year and day. At least that was true for Catherine.

On the evening six-year-old Lindsey had come back from the hospital, Catherine recalled the guilt she had felt because her daughter had become so ill while Catherine was working and because she had to return to work on her daughter's first night home.

During that shift Catherine had been assigned to a drunk and disorderly that possibly spilled out into the streets. As her partner had driven them to the scene, Catherine had been in a daze. When the car stopped, she was surprised that they had driven to her front door.

"I'll take care of tonight," A younger, more energetic Gil Grissom said. "Go take care of Lindsey."

Catherine recalled not wasting a second after she heard her friend's word. She got out of the car and went to the driver's door, asking Gil to roll down his window.

"Are you sure? What about…"

"Cath, don't worry. It's probably just a run of the mill drunk and disorderly. I'll pick you up later to get your car."

_Run of the mill my ass._ An older Catherine thought as she realized that scene was anything but run of the mill.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Reggie stood in the living room of the old farmhouse on the outskirts of Vegas. The house was owned by his mother's cousin, Marie, and her husband, Joe. He looked down at the tattered, braided rug he stood upon and smiled when he remembered playing with die cast cars on the same rug with his brother John decades ago. But his smile quickly faded when he remembered his angry father coming in and yanking the both of them up off the floor by their arms and dragging them out of the house.

With a flat, lifeless expression, Reggie looked down at his elderly second cousins — who he called aunt and uncle — as they sat on the floor with their arms tightly bound behind them. Reggie knew the couple understood what was going to happen to him and brother when they were young boys ripped away from the house. But neither of them said one word to Reggie's father. They never did one thing to rescue Reggie and John from that hell.

And now they would pay.

Reggie wanted to punish them because they did nothing to protect the weak. And in lieu of their punishment, their place of residence would transform into the haven it should have been so many years before.

Joe and Marie looked up at Reggie with their eyes filled with tears and tears running down their cheeks. Reggie took a step forward and pulled the bowie knife from its sheath that was attached to his belt. The look in his eye was one of pure evil as the sadistic grin etched itself across his face. The elderly couple shook their heads as they both looked between the knife and their relative's face.

With a quick downward movement Reggie stabbed the knife into Joe's groin. Joe screamed through his gag, and writhed on the floor as Reggie viciously twisted the knife.

"How do you like it, Joe?!" Reggie screamed like a madman. "All the years that we suffered at the hands of my father and you never did a fucking thing!"

Reggie pulled out the knife and stood up straight as he watched the growing pool of blood between Joe's legs. As the older man's life blood drained from his body it also dripped from the tip of the blade onto the braided rug. Reggie watched with satisfaction as Joe turned to a sickly pallor.

Joe turned to look at his wife as he felt coldness creep through his body. He wished that he could tell her how much he loved her before he died. He wished he could go back and change the past and save his wife from the same fate. But he knew that it was too late for that now, and as he felt the last of his life slipping away from his body and the last of his struggling and shallow breaths he just looked at Marie and hoped that she could see the undying love in his eyes as they closed for the last time.

Marie stared at her dead husband for a long moment before Reggie drew her attention again and she looked up at him as he spoke.

"It's your turn, Marie. You are just as guilty as Joe was."

Reggie grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her to her feet. She stumbled as he dragged her to the staircase and up each step. He pulled Marie into the master bedroom and threw her onto the bed. Using the knife, he cut away her night gown. Marie looked up into the eyes of what had once been an innocent, loving child, but was now a sadistic madman.

"You're gonna pay, Marie. You're gonna fuckin' pay." Reggie's words were cold as he grabbed her breast with one hand and began cutting it off with the knife in his other.

Reggie sat in the antique chair that sat in the corner of his cousin's bedroom. The silence in the house was eerie as he looked at the motionless form of his dead cousin Marie. She lay on the bed with pain etched across her face and her eyes wide with fear. Flies already smelled the blood that soaked everything and had begun to gather. His attention focused on one fly that rested upon one of her open, green eyes and rubbed its tiny legs together.

Suddenly, Reggie's body shook as a maniacal laugh began in his stomach and worked its way up his body. Soon he grabbed his stomach and doubled over as he was overcome with laughter and pure joy at the thought.

"They all pay." He mumbled. But then, the image of his brother John lying on a bed just like the one before him stood out clearly in his mind as his father forced himself into John's body. His laughing ceased. He could envision John laying face first on the bed. But then the image morphed into an image of Gil Grissom lying naked, on his stomach with his wrists and ankles tied tightly to the bed posts.

"They paid for their sins," Reggie whispered. "They all had to pay."

Reggie would not be safe in Vegas; the cops would find him there. He would return one last time, to retrieve his property, and then the likes of Vegas would never see him, or Gilbert Grissom, ever again.

"I own him," Reggie mumbled under his breath. "He'll fucking pay, just like they did. They all pay in the end."

Reggie rubbed himself through his jeans as he could feel himself taking Gil's body over and over again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Before Catherine could walk to the entrance of Gil's townhouse, the front door was opened for her by the bug man himself.

"Jeez, Gil, if only single men were this excited to see me."

"Did you bring the files?" Gil asked, forgetting his normally polite demeanor.

Catherine stopped at the front door with a motherly look on her face. "A 'hello' and/or 'good afternoon' would be nice."

Gil rolled his eyes. "Hello and good afternoon, Catherine. Did you bring the files?"

Catherine laughed as she stepped across the threshold to see Sara in the kitchen. "Hey, Sara, I thought you would be in bed asleep."

"Oh, I was, but Gil's been pacing around like a caged animal since you called. I was afraid he was going to jump in the car and drive you over here," Sara said as she put a fresh cup of coffee in front of Catherine. "But now, he is your problem."

The comment garnered a small look of annoyance from Gil until Sara brushed passed him and made a signal asking for a kiss. He complied without a word and with a small smile. Catherine sat down at the table and waited for Gil to make his way there.

"I wanted to jog your memory about both cases, see if anything comes to mind." Catherine said as she spread out the files.

"I'll try. The Denalgio case w-was a while ago," Gil said as he took the file and started thumbing through the pages. It didn't take him long to see the interview log. "Reggie Shelling w-was there?"

"Seems so," Catherine said in a soft tone. "But it doesn't look like you talked with him."

Gil put the file down and looked off into the distance. He spoke a moment later. "From w-what I remember of that night, I spent most of the time inside the fighting hall. According to Detective Martin's notes Shelling w-was interviewed outside. I probably didn't even see Shelling that night."

Catherine took notes and studied her friend. In the past few days she had seen parts of the old Grissom return. "Gil, while you were on the case that night did you come in contact with anyone?"

"No. I spent the hours processing evidence. Sorry, Catherine," he said.

"Don't be. We'll find something."

"I've been trying to remember Denalgio's court hearing since you called," Gil said. "Denalgio never w-went to trial. I testified at his grand jury hearing. Once the evidence was seen as enough for a trial, that's w-when Denalgio lost it and threatened me. I remember Detective Martin w-was there but other than the lawyers and the court room personnel, the room w-was empty."

Catherine sat there quietly. Her nerves were getting the best of her, but she worked to maintain her composure.

"Are you OK, Catherine?" Gil asked.

"What?" She asked as her face lit up with sincere bewilderment. "Just lost in thought. I'm not thinking about anything particular."

Gil closed the Denalgio file. "Your being there that night on the scene, it w-wouldn't have made any difference about w-what happened to me," Gil said. Catherine blanched at his comment, but said nothing, leaving Gil to continue. "I remember that night. I remember how sick Lindsey w-was. You belonged at home w-with her, not in some dump w-with me sorting through teeth and blood types, and getting teeth imp-pressions off Denalgio's fists. Although, you probably w-would have done better with the splatter."

The two looked at each other and held each others gaze for a short moment as an understanding of two friends passed silently between them. Then Catherine placed her hand on his forearm and then withdrew it.

"Okay," Catherine said before taking a deep breath. "Let's move to the John Shelling case. How's your memory of the interrogation?"

"It's good." Gil said his voice was low and hard.

"Let's walk through it a bit."

"Jim took the lead about his w-whereabouts and the drugs in his system," Gil recounted. "He tested positive for cocaine and ecstasy. I took the lead on the physical evidence…"

Gil stopped for a second as he recalled the evidence he had collected from the gruesome scene. Three young girls -- Alison, age fifteen, Mika, age fourteen and Courtney, age twelve, were shot in their beds while they slept. "I remember the look on his face w-when w-we told him that w-we knew he used the couch pillows as a silencer for the shooting. He looked up at me and told us how the girls used to love to cuddle together on the couch and w-watch 'Feifel Goes W-West.'"

Again, Gil took a pause. Catherine got out the transcript from the interview while Gil composed himself. "Gil? What was he muttering here?" She pushed the file into both of their views as she pointed out the phrases referred to.

Gil sat up straighter, his face contorted in thought. "W-We got the confession out of him and we were trying to find a motive of why he shot them, and he kept saying three phrases, 'I don't want them to taste'; 'the bitterness w-will kill them'; and 'they w-would be torn.' He repeated it over and over again. Then at the end of the interview he said five times, 'I couldn't let it happen.'"

Catherine weighed the words as she was sure Gil did ten years ago. "Okay, maybe he was thinking of poisoning them, but he just couldn't do it. Maybe he thought they would hurt themselves more if they tasted the bitter poison…"

Catherine continued to think out loud, but her words were lost on Gil. He turned over the phrases in his mind. But unlike ten years ago, he was able to look at the words from another terrifying, horrible perspective. He became a bit shaky and stood up from the table. It wasn't until he knocked over his glass of juice that Catherine even noticed what was going on.

"Careful, Gil, don't trip." Catherine said as she soaked up the spilled juice. "Gil? Gil?"

Gil seemed lost for a second as he walked slowly and unsteadily with his cane. Catherine stood up and went to his side. "Hey. Gil. What's up?"

He looked at Catherine and slowly shook his head. Through the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes she could see the horrified look that grew up from his very soul. Gil pointed his cane towards the table and they silently and slowly made their way back to it. "Gil, did you remember something?"

"He w-wasn't talking about poison or another w-way to kill them or his drug habit. I thought of those same things when we interviewed him," Gil said in a steady, but sad voice. "He was talking about his brother."

Catherine looked at Gil then thumbed through the transcripts again. "Gil, he never mentioned his brother or any family member. Is there a note or anything that you're recalling instead?"

"N-No! W-When he said those three ph-phrases; he was t-talking about his b-brother!" He shouted his words; a hint of fear laced the anger in his voice. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to drown out his emotional pain with his physical pain and began to punch his thigh with such force that Catherine could feel the vibrations in the floor. She was taken aback for a moment. She had never seen him this violent towards himself before.

"Okay, Gil!" Catherine said as she regained her composure. "Please calm down. Okay?" Catherine watched him fearfully as he pounded his thigh with his fist. She put a hand over his fist, halting the violent action. "I'm listening to you, but I don't understand. Calm down, take a deep breath and then we'll continue."

Gil nodded and stopped fidgeting. He used the calming exercises that Dr. Stacey Tolliver had taught him in their last session to steady his breathing. Catherine noticed the pattern and breathed with him. She looked over Gil's shoulder to see a very concerned Sara walk into the kitchen. The two women exchanged very perplexed looks and Sara made her way over to the table, although Gil hadn't noticed.

"Gil, are you okay to talk? We don't have to continue."

"N-No," he said surely. "No. No. I… I'm okay."

"Okay, tell me again, Gil. What's your theory?'

Gil closed his eyes. The memories of Shelling, Denalgio and O'Tool forcing themselves on him filled his mind. The steel ring forced his mouth open while their bodies invaded Gil's own body. Their smells, their tastes defiled his senses. He remembered the bitter taste of their cum as it dribbled from his mouth and down his neck and chest. Except for Shelling's cum. He was forced to swallow the bitterness down.

As tears flowed from his eyes, Gil continued to make no sound as he recalled the feeling of being torn open from behind. The torturous memories still shook his body. With his hands roughly rubbing his thighs he began to rock back and forth.

Catherine had stood up and let Sara take her place. As Catherine stood behind Gil with her hands kneading his shoulders, Sara sat down in front of him and tried to catch his gaze. She spoke to him in a soothing, but concerned tone. "Gil, it's Sara. You're okay. Catherine and I are here. Tell me what's going on, please."

Both women were prepared for swinging. They both had experience with that new, dark side of Gil. But instead Gil lifted his head and took a deep breath. He spoke softly and slowly as he tried to voice his theory. "J-John Shelling… was talking about his b-brother. … R-Reggie Shelling b-blamed J-John Shelling's d-daughters for their own d-deaths. … He c-c-called them whores who used J-John… ch-children… they were ch-children… the twisted son-of-a-b-bitch. … How c-can you b-blame ch-children?"

Although neither Catherine nor Sara fully understood what Gil was saying, they let him continue and listened to every word. But Catherine had to clarify something as she sat down on the other side of Gil. "Gil when did Reggie say that?"

Again Gil took a deep breath. "W-While he was torturing me. He c-called them whores."

Catherine still didnt understand where Grissom was going with his train of thought. But she needed him to continue, so she gingerly asked, "Gil, help me read between the lines with what John Shelling said because I still can't see it."

Gil put a nervous, shaking hand above his lips. He was close to crying again. He looked into Sara's eyes, full of love and concern, and the first of fresh tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Sara. I know you know what happened... but I'm sorry you have to hear this," he said. With downcast eyes, Gil continued. "J-John Shelling k-kept talking about tasting, b-bitterness and tearing. Those are three things that I r-remember Shelling, D-Denalgio and O'Tool d-doing to me. They m-made m-me taste them, I had to sw-wallow their b-bitter ejaculate and then they tore me open when the anally raped me."

Putting his hand to his mouth, Gil found the strength to continue. "W-What if R-Reggie Shelling had that in m-mind for J-John Shelling's daughters? Forced P-Prostitution. M-Maybe that's what his b-brother had in store for Alison, M-Mika and C-Courtney, and J-John c-couldn't let that happen."

"And in his drug-crazed mind, he killed them so it wouldn't happen." Catherine added.

"You said w-we d-don't know w-what Shelling d-does for money," Gil said. "M-maybe he's involved in p-prostitution or even human trafficking?"

"If that's the case," Catherine said. "Than Vice or the Nevada Bureau of Investigation might have something on him. I could take his photo and see if they know him under an alias."

"Has anyone checked out J-John Shelling's b-belongings from p-prison?"

Catherine looked through the file. "No, but no one has claimed them either. I'll have Warrick do that," Catherine said. "And I think it would be a good idea for us to interview the cellmate who killed him. Ecklie's guys did, but he didn't say much just the 'he asked for it.'"

"Maybe he actually did ask for it," Gil said his tone distant. "I d-don't know how you w-would live with yourself after that."

The comment caught Catherine off guard. She had never witnessed Gil talking as he had or acting as he had. But she took a look at Sara and while Catherine was incredulous, Sara showed strength and compassion. Then Catherine recalled Warrick telling her of Gil's suicide attempt and understood. It was time for her to leave; they needed to be alone after that.

"Gil, I'm going to go," she said, not knowing exactly what to say next. "You did good, hon. I'll let you know what's going on, okay."

Gil gave a weak nod and smile, but Catherine didn't expect much more. When Sara went to get up and escort Catherine to the door, she stopped her. "I know my way out. You stay with Gil. I'll call you in a few to make sure every thing's okay."

"Thanks, Cath," Sara said as she returned her attention to Gil. She put her hands on his own which rested nervously on his lap.

They both heard the door close and sat in silence. When Gil let out a sigh, Sara reached out to caress his face. He caught her hand and kissed her palm. "I'm sorry."

"I've never been more proud of you," Sara said. "I love you."

Gil looked at her and encircled her body with his arms. As they hugged each other tight, Sara heard a faint, "I love you too." As Gil's tears flowed on her shoulder and neck.

"Come on," Sara said. "You need rest."

"I want to be with you."

"You will. Always."

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: I know you guys have been waiting for this for a long time and I am truly sorry for the wait. But all good things come to those who wait. At least that's what my grandmother keeps saying. But I'm still waiting for my Farari... sidle77. You guys have been so patient, and non-threatening, that if you all leave me some nice, long reviews I'll post a special chapter sooner. And yes, it contains something that you ALL have been asking for;)**


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: I told you that if you were all good little readers you would get it early. You thought I was joking, didn't you? I want to wish a happy birthday to kudostogill. I don't know how old you are but that's okay. Would you like us to rally and sing you the song???

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Five

______________________________________________________________________________

Gil had joined Sara in bed and had even managed a short nap before his nightmares woke him again. At least this time he didn't wake up screaming. He lovingly watched Sara as she slept beside him, and wished he could just touch her. Just caress her face.

When Sara woke a short time later she rolled over to face Gil, who was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. As was his custom he hugged the very edge of the bed. As she quietly watched him his eyes moistened with tears.

"Gil?" Sara propped herself up on her elbow. "What's wrong, honey?"

Her voice was soft and patiently urging. He found it comforting that she wasn't pushing him, only gently urging and waiting for a response when he was ready. In that moment he realized how incredibly patient she had been with him.

"I want to touch you." A tiny tear rolled down the side of his face and disappeared in his peppered hair. "I want to kiss you, to… make love to you… but I can't." His voice was reduced to a whisper at the end of his admission.

Sara's brow creased with confusion as she watched despair cover the face of the man whom she loved and adored.

"Why can't you touch me?" Again she gently prompted and waited while he tried to find the right words in his confused mind.

"I feel filthy." He simply said after a minute. "I've washed over and over, and I still feel their filth. I still feel them on me." He turned to look at her and the sorrow that filled his eyes renewed the ache in her heart.

Realization began to dawn on Sara. "Are you afraid that you'll make me dirty?"

"Yes." Gil whispered as he slowly nodded his head.

"If you can't wash away the feeling," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe I can."

Sara climbed out of bed and Gil watched her as she quietly padded around to his side took hold of his hand. She gently pulled him off the bed and, while still holding his hand, led him into the bathroom. She intently watched his eyes for a moment. Holding her gentle gaze, Gil realized how much he trusted her. Looking at her like this made his fears seem to disappear.

When Sara saw the trust in his eyes she bent over and gently tugged down his sleep pants and boxers. She guided him to sit down on the chair behind him and he quietly obeyed. He lifted his arms as she pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it on the floor. Then she quietly lifted one leg, pulling off his bed clothes, and then the other. Then she removed the new flexi brace that Doctor Diller had given him in place of the straight leg brace that had limited his movement.

Neither of them spoke as he watched her every gentle and unassuming action. When he was finally naked she reached into the luxury, tiled shower and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. When the water felt right she turned back around to see him still sitting in the chair, intently watching her. She began to undress herself, only taking her eyes off his when she pulled her shirt over her head. When she finally stood, naked, in front of him his eyes calmly wandered over her body.

When his eyes again met hers she held out her hand and waited for him to take it. He put his hand in her outstretched one and let her pull him to his feet and lead him into the shower. Sara closed the door and carefully pushed him back until he stood under the cascading water. She took the shampoo off the shelf and squeezed a small amount into her cupped palm. As she began messaging it into his hair Gil closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch. When she was finished she guided his head back under the water and rinsed his hair.

Sara then squeezed the body wash into her hand. Starting at his face, she gently and tentatively worked her way down the front of his body, not missing a spot. After washing his belly she knelt in front of him and first washed down the front of his right leg, and then down the front of his left. No part of her beloved was neglected by her touch - from behind his knees to the crevices between his toes.

After finishing with his legs, Sara applied more body wash to wash his genitals. But before doing so, she looked up at Gil for a moment. She knew those men had touched him in a way that had torn apart his heart and soul. So, as she used her right hand to gently caress and wash him, she used her left hand and signed, "I love you." Through her silent gesture she hoped to reveal how her own, open heart could repair his damaged one and her hands could offer a tender touch that could overpower any hate-filled action he had felt at the hands of those monsters.

Gil looked back into her eyes. His gaze reflected some shame, but upon seeing what Sara signed to him, his shame dissipated. He signed "I love you with all my heart" before closing his eyes and concentrating on her touch. Upon seeing his gesture Sara felt her own heart skip but she returned to her task. After washing his groin, she gently nudged his legs apart to wash between his legs and his inner thighs.

Gil opened his eyes and watched her as she rose to her feet and gently urged him to turn around. He complied and calmly waited as she applied more body wash and began rubbing it on the back of his neck and shoulders. She gently rubbed it over the healing flesh of his back, and then down the backs of his legs.

Sara meticulously cared for each part of Gil's body as she cleansed him. After applying one last dollop of body wash to the cupped palm of her hand she reached down to wash the last part of his body. As she slipped her petite fingers between his buttocks he gasped sharply and tensed. She had to make him realize that no part of his body, including that part which had been the focus of his rape, should ever be an epicenter of shame.

"It's okay," she whispered into his ear. "I promise that I won't hurt you."

Somewhat reluctantly, he forced himself to relax and allowed the mild intrusion. True to her word, Sara gently washed him then took down the retractable head and rinsed the soap off his body. She turned off the water and, taking his hand once again, led him out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the closet. She gently dried his body and then her own.

Gil would never be able to completely understand it, even though he would analyze it for years to come, but in that moment as he looked down at the love of his life all of his dirty feelings disappeared. Sara looked up at him with a kind smile.

"Do you feel better now?" Her voice was soft and full of concern.

"Let me show you." Gil felt revitalized as he lifted her into his arms and barely even noticed the discomfort that the extra weight caused in his injured knee.

He carried Sara back to the bedroom and gently laid her in the middle of the bed. At first he had positioned himself on his knees between her legs, but his knee demanded that he take the pressure off. He settled on the side of Sara, who turned slightly to face him. He gently caressed her breasts, allowing his thumb and forefinger to pay attention to her nipples. They quietly lied still and gazed into each others eyes. Gil gently pushed her upon her back again. She could see tears begin to shine in his eyes as he hovered above her and smiled.

"You saved my life." His voice was thick with emotion.

Before Sara could reply he dipped his head and kissed her full on the lips. She parted her lips as he gently pushed his tongue between them. The more their tongues danced, the more alive they both felt. He broke the kiss. A protest bubbled in her stomach, until she heard the confident timber of his voice.

"I love you, Sara." He said as he slowly panted for breath.

"I love you too, Gil." She gently cupped his face with her hands. "If you're not ready for this…"

"I am." He looked deep into her eyes. "I want to make love to you."

He kissed her again, but didn't linger on her lips. He slowly pressed soft kisses along her jaw line and down her slender neck, gently nipping at the skin. He worshiped every inch of her body. As he reached the top of her breast, he felt her shudder as his tongue circled her nipple before gently sucking it into his mouth. Sara entwined her fingers in his soft curls as he suckled at her breast, taking his time to pleasure her. A low moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and he moved to kiss his way across to her other breast. The tingling in her lower belly grew and intensified as she felt her sex become wet with desire. Gil could sense her arousal and his erection hardened as it pressed against her.

"Mmmmm… Gil…" Sara moaned as he reached down and ran a finger through the wetness and flicked his thumb back and forth upon her clit. Sara let go of his hair and grabbed his shoulders, bracing herself, as the first waves of pleasure rippled through her. Gil raised his head and watched her face as she came closer to her climax. He smothered her whimper with another kiss as he took his finger away, only to line himself up and enter her with one slow, deliberate thrust.

He set a slow and steady rhythm, letting himself get used to the feel of her around him as he was becoming overwhelmed by his own emotions and sensations. Then Sara saw uncertainty flash across his eyes as his thrusts faltered and he began to lose coordination.

"Gil," she panted as she cupped his face with her hands. To Sara, this wasn't about whether his thrusts were sloppy or the timing of his endurance or who would be able to come. This was about two souls reuniting after three animals tried to rip them apart. "I love you… no matter what."

The pure love and adoration in her eyes strengthened his resolve and spurred him on as he regained his rhythm and quickened his pace. Sara maintained her eye contact until she reached the edge of her climax. Her whole body clenched as she reached her orgasm and waves of pleasure rippled through her.

"Ohhh… Gil!!!" Sara cried as she pulsed around his cock and shut her eyes tight.

Gil felt like he couldn't control himself as her pulsating body clenched around his erection and he began to panic when he lost eye contact with her. His thrusts quickened and he began to drive them into her body with more force than he thought he had in him. Sara's cries of pleasure mixed with those of Shelling, Denalgio and O'Tool as their voices penetrated his ears again and visions of them raping him invaded his memory and their faces mingled with Sara's.

_"Oh… yeah…" Denalgio moaned as he thrust into Gil's ass and reached down to grasp Gil's erect cock. "Oh… baby… you like that… don't you, slut."_

Gil forced himself to calm back down as he came back to reality and realized that Sara had reached her climax and was beginning to come back to reality herself. He slowed his thrusts until they stopped altogether, and he softened inside her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Baby…" They both panted for breath. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… just… tired." Gil lied, not wanting to tell her the truth and ruin the moment, as he lifted his head and forced a weak smile.

Sara was so happy that they had finally gotten past his ordeal and made love. She was a little saddened that he had not been able to reach his climax with her, but he still tired easily and she didn't mention it. Gil rolled them onto their sides and held Sara in a loving embrace as she cuddled into him and he covered them with a blanket.

Gil had been pleased that he had brought Sara to her orgasm, but the memories of being so violated remained, and Denalgio's words floated in his head.

_"You like that… don't you, slut."_

Gil shut his eyes tightly as he still felt every painful thrust and Rubin Denalgio's strong hand wrap around his willingly hard dick and roughly jerk him off.

Sara had drifted back off to sleep again but Gil quietly climbed out of bed and pulled on his pants. He padded in his bare feet down the stairs and into the kitchen where he got a bottle of water from the fridge. His hands shook as he unscrewed the cap and drank down several gulps before setting it on the counter.

He stumbled into the living room and dropped onto the couch. He shut his eyes but couldn't stop the tears, and hugged himself as he began to rock back and forth. He didn't understand what was happening. He had been doing so well, despite the nightmares. He had started taking control of his life again but now it felt as though it was slipping out of his grasp. It had begun so beautifully. He felt like they were really making passionate love again, like they had so many times before. But the tables had turned so quickly that he almost lost control and did something unspeakable to the woman he loved with all his heart. If he hadn't forced himself back to reality he feared that he may have actually lost control and hurt her.

Gil shook his head back and forth as he tried to shake the memories from his mind. Two words lingered though, even as the rest faded. Two words rang in his ears even after he covered them with his hands.

_You slut._

_You slut._

_You slut._

Gil heard these words over and over. Anger began to overcome his fear and self-hatred had begun to overcome his renewed humiliation as he drove his fist into his right thigh. His bitter feelings remained as he continued to punch his thigh.

"I'm not a slut!" Gil grunted under his breath and through his clenched teeth. "I'm not a faggot! I'm not a faggot!"

He tried hard to convince himself but now he wasn't sure. He couldn't even come to orgasm with the woman he loved. His last orgasms were with his male captors. Maybe O'Tool's words were true. Maybe he was a faggot. He punched his thigh harder and harder.

Hank, who had followed his dad to the couch, whimpered each time Gil punched himself and ran and hid behind one of the easy chairs. Only his nose poked out from behind the chair as he watched his dad hurt himself.

"I'm not a faggot!" Gil cried angrily as he punched himself one last, tired time and gave up. "I'll prove it. I'll just prove that I'm not."

Gil calmed and was overtaken by exhaustion as he slumped back on the couch. Hank crawled out from behind the chair and reluctantly made his way over to Gil, sniffing and whining the whole way.

"It's okay, boy, I'm not mad at you." Gil soothed the pooch.

Gil patted the couch next to him and Hank jumped up beside his dad and laid his head on Gil's right thigh, covering the darkening bruise and looking up at his dad with saddened eyes.

"It's okay, boy, I'm done." Gil promised as he stroked the boxers head.

That is how the two fell asleep, and that is how Sara found them when she awoke to go to work. In bed alone, she quickly dressed in her robe and sought out Gil. When she found them on the couch, at first she felt confused he left her in bed. But it wasn't the first time he retreated to be with Hank, and Sara refused to be jealous of such a faithful companion. It seemed to her Gil was enjoying respite since his body was still. She went to the kitchen to make coffee and then went to get ready for work.

Gil opened his eyes when he heard Sara leave the room. Although fully awake, he didn't move. While his body stayed in its prone state, his mind worked in overdrive.

_Rubin Denalgio laid face first on the cold concrete with his hands tightly bound behind him. He writhed and screamed in pain with each and every strike of the hard leather cat-of-nine tails. It stuck his body over and over again, each hit ripping away pieces of flesh and splattering blood in all directions._

_When the beating finally stopped, Rubin lay still. His body screaming out in pain and he believed that he couldn't possibly suffer any more. Then his knees were forced underneath him and up to his chest, so that his ass stuck straight up into the air._

_"Please," Rubin begged weakly. "Please…sir…please don't rape me again."_

_Gil stared down at him with pure hate and malice in his eyes. He put his foot on Rubin's neck, forcefully holding him down on the floor, as he turned the whip over in his hand. The handle, which was a foot long and quite thick in his hand, was caked with dried blood and feces from the two previous times that he had used for the violent act._

_The expression on Gil's face was one of sick satisfaction. It pleased him to not just lower his tormentor down to the level that he had been forced to, but to throw him down to that level, violently, and force him to suffer the same pain that he had._

_Without warning or hesitation Gil rammed the handle of the whip into Rubin's ass until it disappeared completely. Rubin let out a blood curdling scream of pain as he lurched forward in an attempt to escape his tormentor but Gil's foot was strong and kept Rubin's face pressed to the floor._

_Gil pulled the handle out and rammed it into his captive again. He repeated the action several times, the smile on his face growing wider as Rubin's screams grew louder. The pain mixed with the involuntary pleasure that was forced on Rubin's prostate._

_"No, God, please no!" Rubin begged as he felt himself harden._

_"Who's the fucking slut now?!" Gil screamed as Rubin came hard beneath him._

Gil's body stayed still, but he still physically responded to his daydream. His breathing quickened, a slight sheen of sweat beaded upon his forehead, and his lips trembled slightly. Yet his expression seem pained or distressed. His eyes were glazed and didn't waver, even when he consciously heard the doorbell ring.

Sara opened the front door when she heard the bell ring and ushered in a smiling Nick.

"Hey, Sara, how are you doing?" Nick asked as he stepped through the door.

"I'm okay, Nick. How are you?"

"Okay," he nodded. "Where's Grissom?"

"He's in the living room. Come on."

Sara lead Nick into the living room to see Gil unmoved from his place on the couch. Gil didn't take notice of them upon their entry, or when Sara spoke his name. Sara and Nick looked at each other as they stopped in front of Gil. The look in his eyes, matched with the chilling and sadistic smile on his face, scared both of them. They both readied themselves for a repeat outburst as Sara reached out and touched his arm.

"Gil?" She called him and he startled, ever so slightly, and looked up at her.

"W-W-What?"

"Nick's here to stay with you while I'm at work. Are you okay?"

As Gil realized where he was and the way they were looking at him he recomposed himself and smiled. "I'm fine. I guess I'm just tired."

Sara had offered to help him before she left but he said he would be fine if Nick just went up the stairs with him. Sara felt uneasy as she left the house but knew that Gil was in good hands and reminded herself that she could trust Nick to watch over him and that she needed to trust Gil that he really wasn't going to give up.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I know that it is not quite what you wished for, but that shower scene was fluffy like a pillow:D I hope it satisfies your need for fluff until the really good stuff comes you could use that pillow to choke someone to death... LOL!!!

On a more serious note. Some of you are probably thinking that Grissom's violent fantasies are OOC, but I assure that they are not and it will soon be explained.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry you all had to wait a week but at least no one threatened me:D I want to give a BIG thank you to JellyBeanChiChi, who is an awesome beta and an even better collaborator. I got stuck in a low with this chapter and she gave me the kick in the seat that I needed:D I also want to thank sidle77 for being a hell of a collaborator too. I assure you, even though she and I have become partners in a tortuous venture for GSR it will not halt this story.**

**WARNING: This chapters contains graphic scenes of violent rape and readers should take caution.  
**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Six

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Nick walked beside Gil as they made their way up the stairs. He had been ready to grab the older man if he started to fall, but Gil had been able to make it upstairs without assistance. It was a small accomplishment but it was one that made Gil feel a little proud.

Nick sat on the bed and waited while Gil readied himself for bed in the bath room. Gil had done everything for himself. It tired him out to not have the assistance,but his determination to be independent fueled his actions. Gil and Nick wished each other a goodnight before Nick headed downstairs.

Nick settled himself on the couch for the night, but he couldn't shake the look in Gil's eyes when he had entered the living room with Sara. It reminded him of the look he saw when he and Greg had wrestled with Gil just a few days ago. He hoped he would be able to hear Gil if he needed help in the night.

A little after 2 a.m., Nick was startled awake and he jumped off the couch. He rushed up the stairs two at a time as he heard Gil's screams coming from the master bedroom. Nick flicked on the bedroom light switch to see Gil sitting up in the bed with that familiar enraged look upon his reddened face.

"GET THE FUCK OFF HER!" Gil screamed at the top of his lungs.

Nick rushed around the bed and grabbed Gil's arms and tried to shake him awake. "Wake up, Griss! It's okay!"

Instead of seeing Nick, Gil swore Reggie Shelling stood in front of him and he took a swing at the young man. Nick dodged the punch and tried again to calm Grissom.

"Stop it, Grissom! You're okay."

Still caught in his nightmare, Gil couldn't comprehend he was safe with Nick. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO WITH HER?!"

Gil grabbed Nick's shirt and punched him in the stomach. While Nick was doubled over Gil jumped out of bed and pinned his friend against the wall. He roughly held his forearm across Nick's throat, which caused Nick to panic as his air was cut off.

The outburst shocked Nick and the rage he saw in the older man's eyes terrified him. Nick pushed against Gil and struggled to get loose, but he couldn't budge against the strength Gil found in his nightmare.

Despite not wanting to cause any harm, Nick was forced to fight back. He drew back his fist and punched Gil in the side, not realizing that he had struck him in his broken ribs. Gil stumbled and fell back across the bed, but was on his feet again before Nick could pin him down.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM? YOUR GODDAMN FAGGOT?!" Gil screamed before he tackled Nick against the bedroom furniture. The hard crash knocked the breath out of Nick, who couldn't voice his disbelief in what he heard his mentor say.

Gil punched Nick in the face and tried to pin Nick down with his thighs. While mentally, Gil believed he could overpower who he thought was Shelling, in reality he was physically incapable. Nick took advantage of a weak moment and pushed Gil off of him. As Gil saw the younger man tower over him, he mistook an outstretched hand as a means to overpower Gil , not to help him up.

"I'M NOT YOUR SLUT, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Gil took all of his strength to kick Nick in his groin with his healthy leg.

Nick fell to the ground and tried to recover as quickly as possible. "Griss! Please! I don't think you're a faggot. Your're having a nightmare!"

Gil screamed and lunged at Nick again, but the younger man dodged out of the way, but not before sweeping Gil's legs and making him fall. Just as Gil cringed with pain, Nick cringed because he couldn't believe he had to defend himself in such a manner. Before Gil could protest, Nick swung around to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around Gil's upper body, pinning his arms at his sides.

But Gil wouldn't give in. He struggled against Nick and thrashed in his grip. "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME! IF YOU'VE TOUCHED SARA I'LL KILL YOU!" Gil screamed as he pushed himself back against the younger man. Nick lost his balance and tripped, taking Gil with him, and they both fell hard in the corner.

Gil landed on top of Nick, who now lay on his back with his body crumpled in the corner, and continued to thrash in Nick's arms; screaming his rage at the top of his lungs. Nick was desperate to get through to him and not let him hurt himself so, while maintaining his hold around Gil's upper body; he wrapped his legs around Gil's.

"Grissom! You're alright!"

"NO! GET OFF ME!"

"It's okay, Griss. It's me, Nick! You're safe! Sara's safe!"

Slowly Nick's words penetrated the nightmare that still fought for supremacy in Gil's mind. As he began to awaken and realize his surroundings Gil's struggle against Nick's grasp lessened until they finally lay still. Nick propped himself up a little more against the wall and continued to hold Gil while he calmed.

Gil panted for breath as he slumped back against his young friend. Tears welled in his eyes as relief washed over him that it was only a bad dream. But the realness of it would not pass so easily. He had to know that Sara was safe. He had to know that Shelling did not have her, and that he was not raping her.

"N-N-Nick?" Gil could not keep the fear from his voice.

"I'm here, Griss." Nick said and released his hold on Gil but put his hands on the older man's shoulders. He touched his face to find himself with a bleeding lip and nose.

"I have t-to t-talk t-to her, N-N-Nick." Gil pleaded. "I-I-I have t-to hear her v-v-voice. P-P-Please,"

"Okay, man, let's get you back into bed first, okay?"

Nick didn't need to ask Gil who he was talking about and after helping his friend and mentor back into bed he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He called Sara's phone and listened as it rang.

"Sidle."

"Hey, Sara, it's Nick."

"Nick, what's wrong?" She didn't try to hide the concern in her voice because Nick's ragged voice spoke volumes more than his short greeting.

"Grissom just had a bad nightmare and needs to talk to you."

Nick asked Gil if he wanted him to leave and passed him the phone. Gil shook his head adamantly and Nick stayed seated on the bed.

"Hi." Gil said, his voice shaking with his body.

"Hey, baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I-I j-j-just had a b-bad d-dream and I n-needed t-to hear you v-v-voice."

"You want to talk about it?"

"N-N-No. I j-j-just need t-to kn-know that you're ok-kay."

"I'm fine, Gil. I'm here at the lab with Warrick and Catherine, and Jim is standing right beside me."

"W-W-Would you p-put J-J-Jim on?" Gil begged more than anything else, and after a moment he heard Jim's voice on the line.

"Hey, buddy." Jim sounded a little surprised but tried to keep his tone light. "What's up?"

"I-I n-need you t-to do-do something for m-me."

"Sure, Gil, name it."

"K-K-Keep an-an eye on S-S-Sara." Gil had tried to keep the emotions out of his voice but it hitched with a sob as he began to lose his reserve. "P-P-Please, J-J-Jim. P-P-Please d-don't le-let anything happen t-to her."

"Hey," Jim lost his playful tone when he heard his friend's plea and his voice became soothing and reassuring. "You have my word, Gil. I'll stay with her when she is out of the lab, and if I can't be with her Warrick will, okay?"

"Ye-Yeah, ok-kay."

"I'll put Sara back on."

After a moment Gil heard her voice again. "Honey, do you want me to come home?"

"N-No." Gil paused and took a deep, calming breath. "I'm okay now. Nick's here. I'll be fine."

"Okay." Sara sounded hesitant in her belief of his words but didn't push it. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Can you put Nicky back on?"

Gil handed the cell phone to Nick and the younger man got off the bed and stepped out of the room. When he looked back at Gil as he left the room he saw a heart-breaking look of abandonment in Gil's eyes, which Gil quickly tried to hide, by looking away, when he realized that Nick had recognized it.

"Hey, Sara." Nick pressed the phone to his ear once he was in the hallway.

"Hey, Nicky. Is he okay?"

"He's really shook up right now. I need to make sure he didn't hurt himself."

"Are you okay?" Sara knew Nick wasn't.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll talk when I see you back here."

"Look, Nick, he really shouldn't be left alone. After he has a really bad nightmare they just keep coming back all night. Until he gives up and gets out of bed." He heard Sara sigh. "I can come home and stay with him. Cath said they can handle tonight's caseload."

"Sara, I'm here," Nick reassured his friend. "I'll stay in there with him, and if he starts to have another nightmare I'll wake him up."

"Okay," Sara said reluctantly. "I have an appointment tomorrow after shift, but I'm going to cancel it and come right home."

"Oh, no you're not. I know that's your appointment with the therapist and you'll only be gone an extra couple of hours. We'll be fine, Sara. You need to keep that appointment."

Sara glared at Catherine and Jim for telling Nick about her appointment, and even though he was miles away at the townhouse, Nick could tell Sara was upset. "Don't be mad at them. We all care about you and want to help you get through this as much as we do Grissom.

Nick's words startled Sara and she smiled softly, grateful for the love and devotion she felt from this man who was more a brother than a friend. "Okay, okay. I'll see you after my appointment then." The two said their good night's and Nick slipped his phone back into his pocket as he walked back into the bedroom.

Gil looked at Nick then quickly looked away. Nick felt a little embarrassed when he saw Gil harshly wipe the tears from his eyes, yet he sat down on the empty side of the bed.

"You doing Okay?" Nick asked.

Gil continued to look into the distance. He could barely recall exactly what happened before he fully felt he was awake from the dream, but he knew he struggled with Nick. He could see it from the looks of Nick and he felt it in his aching bones and muscles.

"Nick," Gil started. "I'm sorry about w-what happened." He rubbed his side and winced a bit. "I'm guessing I did that to your nose and lip."

"Gris, I'm not going to lie to you. You were out of control," Nick said. He got up from the bed and moved to Gil's side. He pulled up a chair and brought it to the bed. "Grissom, I know what it's like to have nightmares. Believe me."

"I know. They'll get b-better." Gil tried his best to cut Nick off.

"You tell me, Griss. Are they getting better?" Nick's expression showed compassion, but also challenged Gil to tell the truth. Gil still couldn't look at Nick and he couldn't answer him either. But Nick didn't quit. "Look, I'm here for you man. But I need to know. Have you been that way around Sara?"

That comment made Gil quickly turn and face Nick. His eyes showed more fear than anger or resentment for such a question. "NO! No. Nick I sw-wear."

"Gris, I'm not saying you would ever do anything intentional, but you were a man possessed..."

Suddenly, Gil felt nauseous and he started to fidget. He tried to get up, but the struggle had caught up with him. Without a word, Nick helped him up and got him to the bathroom. But once there, Gil shrugged the young man off. Nick took the hint and quickly stepped back so Gil could shut the door. On the other side he heard Gil retching.

Gil shook as he emptied his stomach and then suffered through a few boughts with the dry heaves. He sat back and everything came back - his nightmare, his struggle and how he swore the man in the room with him was Reggie Shelling and not Nick Stokes.

And worst of all, Gil could feel the hatred that coated the pit of his stomach and the rage that just set him on fire. He sat there shaking and in pain. Everything was too much.

He barely heard the knock or the doorknob twisting as Nick entered. "Gris? What's going on?" Nick saw Gil shaking and went to his side. "You in a lot of pain?"

"Y-y-y-es."

"Come on," Nick said and he practically carried Gil out of the bathroom, "get into bed. I'll get you some meds. Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

"NO! ... No. I.... p-p-please just the m-m-meds."

After getting him in bed, Nick retrieved Gil's pills and some water. He then took the chair to the empty side of the bed and grabbed an extra blanket from the hall closet. He sat down in the chair and rested his feet on the bed.

"You d-don't have to stay in here." Gil said with a touch of resentment in his voice.

"I know." Nick replied without looking at him. "I can leave if you want, but I don't mind staying. You'd do the same for me if I was having bad nightmares like this and couldn't escape them on my own."

Gil rolled onto his left side. He sniffled as fresh tears assaulted his eyes. He felt ashamed of himself at needing someone there to make sure that he was okay. It felt like a step backwards and resentment began to grow in him. Then Stacey's words returned to him.

"You have to remember not to look at the kindness of your friends through a 'pity lens.'"

"Thank you, Nick." Gil said in little more than a whisper.

Nick turned off the light and stretched out again. "You're welcome, Griss."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

A peaceful feeling enveloped Sara as she sat in Stacey Tolliver's inner office. After the night that Sara had had she appreciated the tranquil and soothing setting. On his desk sat a bubbling fountain that glowed in an array of soft pastels that changed every few seconds.

"Hello, Sara." Stacey offered his hand and she shook it before sitting down on the couch. "I'm glad that you're here. I'm sure it's been a long few weeks. What would you like to talk about?"

"I'm not really sure," she looked down at her hands where they lay on her lap. "I… I had a conversation with a friend, and I promised I would call about therapy."

"Ah," Stacey nodded. "Is your friend worried about you?"

"Yes. She said I can't help Gil move forward until I move forward myself."

"Sounds like a good friend," Stacey said with a smile, and he received a nod from Sara. "Would you tell me about your friends? Are there feelings of isolation or are you receiving what you need from them?"

"They've been incredible," Sara said, and with that she talked fast and furious about each and every one of them. Her emotions ranged from the pain and sadness that she felt for Warrick when Gil tried to commit suicide and when Nick believed he had jumpstarted Gil's seizure to comfort when she was confronted by Catherine and when she saw Greg sitting on the sofa having coffee with Gil. She talked about the strength that she had received from Jim while they were looking for Gil and after they had found him and he was in the hospital. She even told him of the funny look that Jim had given her the day that Gil had had his outburst of rage.

"What kind of look did he give you?" Stacey asked, breaking Sara's stream of thought that had lasted some twenty-five minutes.

Sara laughed. "He looked at me like I had two heads or something."

Stacey laughed back. "And why do you think that was?"

Sara shook her head. "I couldn't shut up. I just kept babbling and babbling. I do that when I'm nervous."

Stacey stopped for a second. "Sara, do you think you've ever seen that look before?"

"What do you mean? Has Brass ever given me that look?"

"Well, no. I mean the look itself. Was it a familiar look?"

Sara stopped. Her face became serious. "Yeah. Yeah. It was familiar."

"When did you see that look before?"

Sara wrung her hands. "It was the look my brother gave my mother."

"When was that?"

"My father… I got hurt and my mother was taking care of me and talking, and talking and… talking. And my brother was right there and just kept looking at my mother… with… that look."

"Was that the only time?"

"No."

"When did you see that look again, Sara?"

"I gave my mother that look."

"When?"

"After my father hit me again. And… everything just went… bad. And afterward my mother was taking care of me and telling me everything was okay. And I just couldn't see anything but her face," Sara stopped talking and stared at nothing in particular. "And when I looked at her, I gave her that look. Like my mother had two heads. My mother who had just killed my father with a knife in the kitchen had two heads."

Sara froze. Old family memories flooded her mind and then merged with present memories with Gil. Finding him naked and holding onto a table for dear life. Cradling his still body while waiting for the paramedics. Watching his body pulsate and jerk while he had seizures. Listening to his cries for help and his helpless cries during and following nightmares. And the look in his eyes when he seemed distant. It was the same look that she had seen in her father's eyes when he would hit her.

"Sara? Sara? Can you hear me? I asked you a question. Sara? Are you with me?"

Stacey's voice finally broke Sara free of her thoughts. "I'm sorry. I didn't… what did you ask?"

"Sara, tell me what just happened. What were you thinking about just now?"

"I… I think part of me died when we found him."

"Who?"

"My father."

"What part of you died, Sara?"

"My childhood. Mine and my brother's childhood." Sara's eyes were glassy and her voice was lost and cold. "But, I think it was worse when we found Gil."

"Why, Sara?"

"Because a part of him died there," Sara said as a tear fell from her eye. "And when a piece of him died there, so did a piece of me. A piece I took for. And I want it back, but I don't know if I will ever get it back."

"But you're trying, aren't you, Sara," Stacey said, once again beckoning Sara away from her thoughts. "Sara? You're trying hard aren't you?"

"Yeah… but… I…"

"And your friends are trying hard, aren't they?"

"Yes," Sara's resolve returned. But she had to ask Stacey a question. "But what about Gil? Is he trying? He is taking back his independence at home. He is doing things for himself more and more, but… there are times when I wonder. You've talked to him. You would know. Is what I'm seeing true?"

Stacey took a deep breath. "Sara, I know you have a lot of questions about Gil and his therapy, but I really can't talk about that. What I can tell you is, yes, he is trying. But, Sara, there are a lot of unknowns in this journey you are taking, this journey you are taking with Gil. I've told Gil that he is too smart for me to sugarcoat anything, and if there is one thing that you and he have in common it's your great intellect, so I'm not going to sugarcoat anything for you either. This is a tough road, and it's going to take time."

As Stacey paused Sara composed herself and nodded in agreement. But it was Stacey who spoke again. "But, Sara, we're here to talk about you."

"But sometimes talking about me means talking about Gil."

Stacey smiled. The couple also shared something else in common-thick headedness. "True. That's true. …Sara… why don't we go back to Gil. You asked me whether he is trying. Have you ever asked him that question?"

"No… I mean… he's going through so much… I don't know if I could ask him that."

"Okay, I understand. That's honest," Stacey said. But you asked me and seemed satisfied with my answer."

"Well, I trust you would tell me the truth. I trust you."

"Good. That's important for our relationship," Stacey said. "But let's say you asked Gil if he was trying. Would you believe his answer? Would you trust him?"

After babbling for almost half an hour, after opening up to someone she hardly knew about her family and her lover, Stacey's question left Sara speechless. She wondered if another piece of her died at that moment.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Sara walked into the kitchen of the townhouse she saw Nick making coffee and smiled. "Good morning."

"Hey, Sara. How was your night?" Nick turned to see her frown and rubbed his throat with his hand as he realized what she was looking at.

"What the hell happened to you, Nick?" She stepped forward and gently touched the red mark across his neck where Gil had tried to choke him.

Nick took his a sip of his coffee. "Sara, I'm really worried."

"Nick, the therapist said it would be a long road. And I'm sure talking about the case had a really big effect on what happened last night," Sara looked up to see Nick's expression. It was one of concern and just a hint of disbelief. She couldn't pull anything over on Nick. "I know, Nick. I know. I'm not trying to make excuses."

"Sara, the look in his eyes..."

Before he could continue, Sara took a deep breath. "Tell me what happened, Nick. I want to know what he did."

Nick recalled the entire evening. His voice cracked when he talked about how he had to physically hurt Gil to try and control him. "I'm sorry, Sara. I tried not hurt him..."

Sara put her arms around Nick for a much-needed embrace. "It's okay, Nick. I can't believe he was that out of control. But he wasn't himself."

"I didn't even know how to deal with him," Nick said, as he left the embrace and took a breath. "He wasn't the Grissom I know. Not with the look in his eyes and not with the things he was saying."

"He won't share much with me, and lately he's just been screaming for help and mercy," Sara said. "That's not what happened last night though, is it?"

"No," Nick said solemnly.

"What did he say, Nick? Please tell me."

"He really thought I was Shelling, Sara, and he was telling me to get off of you," Nick said. "But that wasn't the worst. He kept saying that he wasn't my 'goddamn faggot.' That's when he really struggled with me. He kept saying he wasn't a faggot or a slut."

"Where is he now?"

"He's still in bed. He woke up several more times after we called you." Nick shook his head sadly and could not hide the emotion from his eyes when he looked up at her. "Sara, I'm not just worried about him. I'm worried about you. Last night... last night was bad."

"I'm sorry, Nick."

"No. Don't be sorry," Nick said. This time he took her into his arms. "I'm glad I was here. But I don't know Sara... I'm just worried about you. Maybe I should stay."

"It's okay, Nick. I think it might be good if I'm with him."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. What about you?" Sara asked. "You sure you're okay?"

Nick laughed. "You're man's got a hell of a left hook. Yeah. I'm okay. But check him out. Okay?"

Sara walked Nick out the door and checked the locks twice, a custom she adopted when Gil came home from the hospital. When she walked into the room she saw that Gil was still lying on the bed and he turned to look at her when she entered. "Good morning." She smiled as she walked around the bed.

Although awake, Gil's mind still worked over the vestiges of his latest dream. He heard familiar phrases echo in his mind. I'll prove that I'm not a faggot, he thought. As Sara sat on the bed, he tantalizingly ran his hand up her arm and said in a sultry voice, "Good morning. I missed you."

His attitude caught Sara by surprise, but Gil's hand reached the back of her neck and he gently pulled her down for a kiss and sat up to meet her half-way. Their kiss was deep and passionate as he lead her body down to lie on top of his, and only broke the kiss when he pulled her shirt up over her head but quickly and hungrily claimed her mouth again.

Now Sara felt conflicted. In her own mind she replayed what she shared at the therapist office and what she had discussed with Nick. She knew she and Gil should talk, but he became insistent they continue as he pushed her lips open for him. He claimed her mouth for his own and slid his hands up her back and unhooked her bra. He rolled them over so that she lay underneath him and broke their kiss to help her out of her pants. He struggled a little to get out of his sleep pants but kicked them away.

Gil claimed her mouth again with a great intensity and Sara thought she would suffocate before he finally broke the kiss. He slowly kissed a trail down her neck and between her breasts. He quickly claimed one of her nipples with his mouth and sucked it hard as she shuddered beneath him.

He raised his eyes to look at her when she lifted her head off the pillow to look at him. He smiled when he was sure he saw the pleasure that filled her eyes. What she saw was a fire that filled his eyes. It was intoxicating. While she still felt apprehensive, the intensity of his gaze struck her at her core. As he kissed his way across to her other breast and claimed her nipple in his mouth, she became unglued. He nipped it with his teeth, giving it a gentle tug. Sara gasped at the sensation and grabbed his shoulders to brace herself as a wave of pleasure rippled through her when he ran a finger through the wetness between her legs.

She wasn't sure what was going on at the moment. But not much mattered other than the passion of the moment.

Gil claimed her lips again as he pushed a second finger inside of her and began flicking his thumb back and forth over her clit. She moaned into his mouth as he forcefully pushed his tongue passed her teeth. He pumped his fingers in and out of her as their tongues dueled for supremacy, which he quickly won.

He kissed his way from her mouth to her ear, slowing the pace of his fingers to prolong her pleasure.

"Your pussy's sooo wet." His voice was like a low, primitive growl in her ear, making her shudder again. She wasn't used to him speaking to her so raw.

"Ooooohhhhhh… Gil…" Sara moaned into his ear.

"What do you want, Sara?" Gil asked before nipping at her ear lobe.

"I want you," she panted.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Sara?"

"Oh, Gil," she moaned as she thrust herself up into his hand.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, Sara!" He commanded as he quickened the pace of his thumb over her clit. "Tell me you want me to fuck you!"

Once again his voice, his very expressions seemed raw and more exposed than Sara had ever experienced. But she could not think as she cried out when her body reached the edge of its orgasm. "OHHHH GOD! GIL!"

Gil pulled his fingers out and quickly lined himself up with her. Watching her face and hearing her voice had made it almost impossible for him to restrain himself from taking her sooner. With one, hard thrust he buried his shaft deep inside her. Sara tightened her grip on his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. She had been taken by surprise as she had not expected the force with which he entered her or the ferocity of the pace that he set.

It was so much different than the day before, when he hadn't been able to reach his own climax. As he held his fast pace his thrusts became rougher. He pounded into her with all of the strength that he had in his body. When Sara came it was hard and intense. But even after she was calming back down from her high Gil had still not reached his.

When Sara opened her eyes and looked up into Gil's her breath caught in her throat. The look that she had seen in his eyes that had chilled her to the core had returned. And the expression that was conveyed by his features was one of pure hatred and rage.

As Gil was overwhelmed by the sensations that he felt his emotions overtook him. While Sara had closed her eyes, as she was swept up by her orgasm, Gil lost himself and his memories took her place. The memory of his tormentors taking him. The memory of his tormentors beating him. The memory of his tormentors forcing their cocks into his mouth. The memory of his tormentors fucking him in the ass overruled them all. The feeling of their hands roughly grabbing his own cock as it hardened in their grip, and roughly jerking him off.

Then Gil's mind was seized by the memory of Michael O'Tool forcing Gil to suck his cock to end the pain. Gil could still feel the dildo that O'Tool had pumped in and out of his ass with one hand while he roughly jerked Gil off with the other, until Gil came hard in his captor's hand and his hot cum squirted up onto his own belly.

All of those feelings rushed over Gil like a raging river and he lost what little self-control he thought he had once had. He pounded into Sara harder and harder. Sara tried to make eye contact with him, but his glazed over, blue eyes were unseeing.

"Gil… baby… calm down," she panted as she cupped his face with her hands.

Gil felt Michael's hands take his face and suddenly the chains that had kept him from protecting himself were gone. He grabbed O'Tool's wrists and pinned him to the floor. Gil held Sara down, with her wrists pinned to the mattress above her head, and gritted his teeth as his rage intensified.

"Gil, stop it!" Sara pleaded as she struggled against him. "Please… stop!"

As Gil felt O'Tool struggle beneath him his need for revenge intensified. He slapped Sara hard across the face. "How do you fucking like it?!" He flipped her onto her stomach and twisted her arm behind her back. "DO YOU FUCKING LIKE IT?!"

He entered Sara's ass with one, hard thrust and again buried himself deep within her. Sara cried out in pain and couldn't stop the tears as he pounded into her with all that he was worth.

"Gil…" she sobbed. "Please… stop… GIL!!!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: WOW! The last time I asked you to hit that button I asked you to be nice, but I far from expect that now. But I will say again that the more reviews I get the sooner I will post.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Wow. Two postings in one night. I think that I just broke a personal record. I was not going to post this for a couple of days but I think I seriously underestimated the power of the end of 26 and the reviews that I have gotten so far have been very powerful. I want you all to know that that scene was not one that was taken lightly. It took me a month of discussion and deliberation before I finally got it right, and decided to keep it in.  
**

**I want to thank JellyBeanChiChi for doing on awesome beta job and her and sidle77 for being great collaborators. I also want to thank all of my readers who have stuck with me through all of this hardship.**

**WARNING: This chapter is sexually graphic and should not be viewed by minors.  
**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Seven

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Gil, what's wrong?" Sara's hands cupped his face as she looked up into his eyes. "Gil! Look at me! What is it?"

Gil gasped as reality came back to him and he realized that it had been another dark fantasy and that Sara lay beneath him, safe but concerned. Gil closed his eyes for a moment before pushing himself off of her and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Gil. Don't close up. What is it? What are you thinking about?"

"I c-can't do this." He closed his eyes as tears threatened to fall. "I need to get out of here."

Gil got up off the bed a bit unsteady, but he recovered quickly and grabbed a pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt. The actions made Sara not only uneasy, but upset.

"What are you doing? Why are you getting dressed?"

Sara could see Gil shaking as he turned to her. His eyes reflected a mixture of rage and shame. "Didn't you see w-what I did to Nick? W-What if that was you?"

"It wasn't me!" Sara screamed. "You had a nightmare, Gil. You woke up completely disoriented. You're reliving insufferable moments and you're going to lash out. We just have to deal with that."

"AND W-WHAT AB-BOUT W-WHEN I'M AW-WAKE? W-WHAT AB-BOUT THEN, SARA?" Grissom screamed at her. She became a bit unnerved as he approached her on the bed. "I almost... g-goddamnit!"

"You almost what?"

"Nothing... nothing," Gil turned back around and sought out a bag. He began to try and fill it up with shirts, underwear, socks and pants.

Sara got up and grabbed the bag out of his hand. "You almost what, Gil?"

"Nothing. I just g-got to get out of here." He forcefully pulled the bag from Sara's grasp, turned his back and walked away.

"GIL! STOP!"

Gil jumped upon hearing Sara say those words. It was not pleading. It was fierce. And it forced him to stop and turn around.

"You are not going to do this, Gil Grissom. You are not going to let them do this to us and walk out that door."

Gil swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't doing this to anger or hurt Sara. He was doing it to save her. "Sara... I don't w-want to hurt you... I don't know w-what I'm capable of..."

Sara took a steady step towards him. Her voice still clear and challenging. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"NO! G-God... n-never."

"You think you leaving me won't hurt me? You're afraid you might hurt me, but you think disappearing will make it better?"

Sara took another step towards Gil, who still stayed rooted in the same spot as when she said stop. "Gil, you keep questioning whether you are a coward, and you aren't. Please don't act like one now. If you trust me, if you truly trust that our relationship is worth it, then fight dammit! For us." Her tears flowed, yet Sara's resolve held true. "I'm willing to fight for this relationship, but no matter what, I am not willing to watch you walk out that door and out of my life."

Gil looked at her and in a soft voice said, "I trust you. I trust you w-with everything. But I almost ... I almost hurt you."

Sara took a breath. "When you were fighting with Nick, did you know it was Nick?"

Gil shook his head. "No."

"And when we were making love, did you want to hurt me or were you thinking of someone else?"

He took deep breath as the vision of what he did to her in his mind returned. He decided that he had to be honest with her, their relationship wouldn't work if he wasn't. "He… he called me…" Gil took another deep breath and struggled to continue. "He called me a faggot. He…"

Sara quietly waited as Gil tried choke back his tears but sobbed for his efforts. She gently guided him back to the bed where they sat side by side. She continued to soothingly rub his neck and shoulders as she bit back her own tears, and the rage she felt towards the ones who had damaged him so badly. Sara only knew some details of what Michael O'Tool had done to her love. But she understood she would only know what Gil was willing to share. So she quietly listened as he spilled his heart out to her.

"He chained me to the w-wall…" Gil shook his head slowly. "I c-couldn't do anything. I c-couldn't stop him. I tried to fight him, I tried not to b-beg w-when he pressed his foot down on my… my… but it was just too much… After I did w-what he told me to do he…" Gil's tone became bitter and angry as he rubbed his right thigh with his hand and began to rock back and forth. "He fucked me with a dildo!" Gil began to pound his thigh with his fist as his tears flowed down his cheeks. "And I fucking came! Right in his fucking hand!"

Sara wrapped her arms around his shoulders pulling him close. Gil covered his face with his hands as his sobs wracked both of their bodies. Sara rubbed her hand over his bare chest as she whispered in his ear.

"It's okay," Her own tears fell onto his shoulder. "I'm here for you, Gil, and I won't leave you."

When Gil had become somewhat calm he continued, and Sara quietly listened. "He told me that I liked it and that I w-was a faggot. And… I…" Gil took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "I'm afraid that he may have been right."

"Why would you think that?" Sara asked as she shifted around to look him in the eye.

"Every time they raped me I got hard, and I came hard. I ... I didn't enjoy it, but it was like a relief... I don't know... But now I can't come w-when I make love to you."

Sara took his chin and gently pulled his head around to look at her while she leaned forward a little more. "Listen to me, Gil, what those animals did to you while you couldn't defend yourself was not your fault. And when you got an erection and ejaculated that wasn't your fault either. It was your body's natural response to what those sons-of-bitches did to you. If you had been in control of your body than I know it wouldn't have happened, but there are just some things that we can't control." Gil slowly nodded his head. "That doesn't make you gay, Gil, that makes you a man. A normal man."

"But I'm still afraid that I might hurt you."

"Why would you do that?"

"I feel so much anger, Sara. I've never felt rage like this," Gil said, his voice filled with pain. "I've been thinking about how I want them to feel that pain and that shame. And I see myself doing it to them. Doing horrible things to them." He brought a shaking hand to cover his face, but she instead took his hands and held them in her lap. "It's these fantasies. Sometimes I can't stop thinking about them."

"Do you want to talk about them."

"NO! I w-want to forget them, but I can't. And w-when I try to make love to you…" Gil dropped his head and couldn't continue, but Sara put the pieces together. "That's what I saw when I looked into your eyes. I panicked. It was like he was there, and I almost did to you what I've thought about doing to him."

Sara held him in a tight embrace. They both quietly sobbed. So much had been spoken between them they just needed to find comfort in each other.

And trust. Which Sara felt she found again in the arms of a shattered, but healing Gil Grissom.

She gently stroked his head as he calmed. She broke the silence with a question she was almost afraid to ask. "Do you still feel like you have to leave?"

Gil sat up and faced her with his arms around her waist. "I don't w-want to leave you. ..."

"I trust you." Her words came out fast, but they felt right to Sara. "I do, Gil. You want to get through this and I trust you will do what you need to to get through it."

She is so strong, he thought. "I w-will, Sara. I have to. And I w-will."

"What if we try again, but I stay on top and I promise not to stop looking at you. Would that help?"

Gil was reluctant. He was too scared to chance it, but he saw that Sara not only was willing to risk her own safety but that she was trusting him when he didn't even trust himself. What he didn't realize was that Sara was more than just trying to trust him, she was pouring all of her strength into trusting him after his admission. Reluctantly Gil nodded.

Sara took her time to undress him. As promised she never took her eyes off of him. Once his shirt and pants were divested, Sara smiled and guided him to lie down on his back and she carefully straddled his hips. Gil's whole body was tense and Sara recognized the look of apprehension in his eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. Gil was breathing hard and his hands were clenched in fists at his sides. Sara broke the kiss and let her face hover over his.

"It's okay, Gil, I know you won't hurt me. You love me far too much for that."

The gentle smile that met her eyes soothed him some and he began to relax as she started kissing him again. She broke the kiss and smiled down at him before kissing the tip of his nose. Then she pressed soft kisses on his eyes, and then his chin, and then his Adam's apple. She looked back up at him and caressed his face with her hand.

"I love you, Gil Grissom, my protector, my white knight." She kissed him again before he could speak.

Sara kissed her way down his chest and imitated the attention that he had shown her. She circled his nipple with the tip of her tongue then kissed her way across his chest and repeated the action with his other nipple. His breathing quickened as she continued her path and kissed her way down his stomach. She kissed his belly button and when she reached his lower belly she pressed kisses across the tender skin.

The sensation recalled the memory of when Shelling had run his hand down Gil's bare chest and stomach, holding it on Gil's lower belly. Gil remembered the fear he felt at the thought that Shelling was going to grab his shaft. Sara saw the change of expression in his eyes.

She leaned forward and carefully rested her weight on top of him as she kissed his lips again. "It's just you and me here. They can't hurt you." Gil started to relax again as his trust in her was renewed.

When Sara was sure that Gil was okay again she went back to kissing his body, but skipped his lower belly this time. She took her time to worship his beautiful body with her kisses but didn't go any lower when she reached his thighs. She kissed the insides of his thighs and tenderly kissed the scarred flesh where his skin had been torn away. Surprisingly Gil felt comforted by her actions. The scars were a grotesque reminder to him, but to Sara they were so much more. They were lasting marks of his undying love for his family and his willingness to sacrifice everything to save one of their own, and she paid each one a special homage.

Sara gently closed her fingers around his shaft and stroked it with her hand. He hardened instantly in her grasp and the sultry look in her eyes chased away his fear and replaced it with a feeling of comfort and intense desire.

Sara saw the change in his eyes and dropped her head until her lips were almost touching the tip of his shaft. She slowly ran the tip of her tongue around the head and he inhaled sharply as he grabbed the sheets beneath him. She slowly encased him in her mouth and watching her intensified all of the sensations that were coursing through him.

Keeping watch of her eyes kept Gil intent on what she was doing. He never even realized that he no longer felt his tormentors on him. He couldn't feel them touching him and he couldn't hear their words anymore. All that consumed him was Sara. All that mattered in that moment was Sara and the feelings that she was renewing in him.

Sara slowly sucked her way up the length of his cock, taking her time when she reached the tip to pay special attention to the coronal ridge at the bottom of the head. Each time she circled it with the tip of her tongue his reaction intensified until he began to thrust her mouth. She released his length and kissed her way back up his body until she reached his mouth and straddled his hips.

She watched his eyes and the desire that burned in those soft, blue orbs and kissed his lips again. He pushed his tongue passed her lips and she gently sucked it into her mouth. Their tongues entwined in a dance of pure passion as his hands ran up her body to rest on the sides of her breasts. The kiss deepened as he stroked the sides of her breasts with his thumbs and any trace of hatred or rage was replaced with love and adoration.

Gil was not lost in the kiss, though, and he felt her hand grasp him and line him with herself before slowly lowering herself onto him. Gil's head dropped back onto the pillow as she sat up and set a slow pace. He was the one who broke eye contact when he shut his eyes and concentrated on the feel of her as her body slid back and forth around his own.

When Gil finally opened his eyes, Sara feared that his expression would have changed. But the desire still burned there and she knew that he had beat it. She had propped herself on his chest as she continued to pump his cock. But Gil was not satisfied and he rolled them over so that she was underneath him.

He quickly regained the pace that she had set and steadily pumped into her as he reclaimed her mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to pleasure her. Sara knew that he needed to be in control. He had been robbed of many things in that warehouse and one of them was his sense of control. She wrapped her legs around his, and entwined them around his thighs. She surrendered herself to her lover as he maintained his strong but gentle pace.

Gil ducked his head and kissed the top of her breast as her body arched beneath him. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and suckled with need. Sara grabbed his shoulders at the new sensation his mouth caused. They were both panting for breath and she could feel him coming close to the edge of his orgasm. Gil knew he was close but he was determined that Sara would come first.

He bit back his need for release and continued his steady thrusts. He felt her reaching the edge of their desired precipice and rested his head next to her ear. He sucked on her ear lobe as he had her nipple, and with the same intensity. Then he ran the tip of his tongue around the inner ring of her ear and she shuddered at the feel of his warm breath when he whispered to her.

"Come for me, Sara. Feel your release and come for me."

His words were all that she needed. It was not a command, it was a lover's request. Sara's whole body clenched as she pulsed around his shaft. The sensation of her body pumping him was all that he needed and he let go of his self-restraint. Gil threw his head back as he cried out her name and Sara joined him, his name coming passionately from her lips, as she was filled with his seed.

When both lovers were spent their bodies relaxed. Gil collapsed on top of her and Sara held him in a tight embrace. She felt an intense desire to protect him while was so vulnerable in his recovery. It didn't matter to her that his weight was pressing her into the bed. His body was like a shield in her weakness and she loved him all the more for it.

After a moment he propped himself up on his elbows and kissed her on the lips before resting his forehead against hers. They both continued to pant for air, though it did ease some, and stayed like that for a moment with their eyes closed, just enjoying the closeness that they felt as he slowly softened inside her.

Gil rolled them onto their sides and held her close as she rested her head against his chest. He reveled in the feel of having her so close to him. He reveled in the feel of her skin as he traced small circles on her back with his fingers. He reveled at the look of her legs as they lay entwined with his. Most of all he reveled as her glistening juices dried upon his shaft. To him was a sign of their undying love and her unwavering trust.

After a long, comfortable silence, Gil spoke softly. "I couldn't do it."

"Couldn't do what?" Sara asked as she ran her fingers over his chest.

"I wanted to. I really did, but there was just something… stopping me."

Sara propped herself up on his chest and looked at his distant eyes. "Stopping you from what, Gil?"

"Shooting myself that night." He looked at her through the tears that welled in his eyes. "Something just wouldn't let me do it."

"I think that something was the inner strength that you didn't think that you had," Sara said warmly.

"That something was you, Sara." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "You're my inner strength."

Sara felt the tears well in her own eyes as she watched the wondrous man beside her. She traced his lips with her fingers and he captured her hand and kissed her palm before holding it over his heart.

"I love you, Gil." Sara choked passed her tears.

"I love you more than I will ever be able show, Sara." Gil returned and held her close again.

When Sara fell asleep in his embrace Gil lay awake. A great sense of peace settled over him as he watched her sleep. He knew that this was not over. He knew that Shelling was still out there somewhere, and he knew that he was still a long ways from recovering from his ordeal. But the peace that she gave him after helping him conquer his greatest fear made the others go away, even if it was just for a little while. It was enough to renew his hope that he would make it. His hope that _they _would make it... together.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: I hope that I have renewed your trust in me and that some of you are heading for a cold shower:) Some of you are probably cursing me for not putting the end of 26 in italics but I had a good reason for that. I wanted to show you readers just how realistic it was to Grissom, and I think I succeeded. Now why don't you all hit that button down there and tell me how much you want me to burn in hell:)**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: WAHOO!!!!! I do believe that I am on a roll. We are one chapter closer to catching that SOB. Which I have been hearing repeated demands for. So don't think that I have forgotten him.**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you to JellyBeanChiChi for once again doing an awesome beta job. And thank you to everyone who has been reviewing ans especially reviewing 27. I got some great reviews on that one and if they were any indication I would say have to say that you're all peeping toms, or tomets:D**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Twenty-Eight

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The next few days had been especially difficult for Gil. He had not had another violent outburst since his fight with Nick, but he would regularly wake up in the night screaming. He would beg for mercy and beg Shelling not to hurt his beloved.

Whoever was there would do their best to calm him and lull him back to sleep. If Sara was working he would demand to call her and make sure that she was okay, but most times his nighttime guardian would already have her number dialed on the phone. She knew that when they called her at work it was most likely Gil needing reassurance. One night Catherine had even found herself humming an old lullaby that she hadn't heard since Lindsey was a baby.

Stacey had come down with a bad case of the flu and had needed to cancel Gil's next appointment and reschedule. Styacey had lined Gil up to see another therapist, but Gil had refussed and said that he would wait until Stacey was better. Gil's agitation grew the longer he had to wait to see Stacey. He paced until his knee demanded respite and in the quiet moments when he sat and tried to rest his mind would slip away and his dark fantasies would return. He would think about them until he caught himself and would shake it off before pacing again.

The team tried to be tolerant of his mood swings. They knew that his irritability had been caused by his injuries and Gil did an admirable job of controlling himself under the circumstance. One would have thought that Jim would have had the hardest time coping with Gil's outbursts, being the retired Marine that he was. It didn't take much to irritate Gil and the persistent shakes in his hands made everything worse.

One morning Gil tried to pour a cup of coffee five separate times. Each time it sloshed over the sides until the counter and floor were a flood of coffee and the front of his clothes were soaked. Gil spun around and threw the cup at the far wall, his rage fueling his pitch. The ceramic mug shattered into dozens of pieces and Jim, who sat at the table eating his breakfast, jumped out of his seat and mimicked an umpire.

"You're out!" Jim yelled at no one, taking Gil by surprise. Jim looked at Gil and grinned. "Nice pitch, buddy."

Gil dropped his head, embarrassed by his outburst, and apologized. Jim walked over to the counter and grabbed the roll of paper towels. He ripped off several sheets of paper towel and handed them to Gil to mop up the coffee on the counter. Before kneeling to clean the mess on the floor Jim looked at his friend.

"I see it as an improvement, Gil." Gil looked at Jim and frowned as he quirked an incredulous eyebrow. "At least you're not taking it out on yourself anymore." Jim smiled warmly and proceeded to clean up the mess on the kitchen floor.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

On the day Stacey could see Gil, Sara was called to court and asked Jim to take him to his appointment. The two sat together in Stacey's empty waiting room.

"Good morning, Gil," Stacey held out his hand, which Gil looked at reluctantly. Stacey smiled apologetically and began to withdraw his hand.

Gil grabbed the therapist's hand and shook it quickly before pulling away. Stacey smiled and only held Gil's hand with the same amount of pressure that Gil was willing to express. He gestured for Gil to have a seat and remarked on his new knee brace.

"Does that make it easier for you to get around, Gil?"

"Yeah." Gil nodded as he carefully stretched his bad leg out on the sofa. "It's made a big difference."

"I apologize for not seeing you earlier," Stacey said, receiving an understanding gesture from Gil. "So, tell me about your week since we last met."

Gil grinned at the memory of making love to Sara just a few days before, and the tender moments they had been able to share because of it. "Yeah, Sara and I… w-we… made love, but the first time…" It was difficult for Gil to share something so personal with someone else, even a therapist. "The first time I couldn't finish…"

"And why was that, Gil?"

Gil told him of the two occasions they had made love. He told Stacey of the flashbacks and the fantasy of hurting Sara. Then Gil told him of the of the way that Sara had helped him overcome his greatest fear, of hurting her, and how much she had trusted him and he had trusted her.

"I sense there's a 'but' in this happy chapter, though?" Stacey asked when Gil had finished.

Gil looked down at the floor for a long time before he was able to answer the doctor's question. "At night I have horrible nightmares. I see Shelling doing horrendous things to Sara… and their so v-vivid. I even get v-violent during some of them… I hurt a friend, but I haven't been v-violent again like that for a few days."

"But you still have these nightmares?" Gil nodded.

"And during the day… I have these… graphic fantasies…"

"When you're awake?" Gil nodded again. "Tell me about these fantasies."

"In them I… exact an awful revenge on my tormentors. I do the same things to them that they did to me, only… w-worse."

"Does it bother you that you have these thoughts, Gil?"

"Yes. It's not me. I'm not a v-violent man, and these thoughts… are so hateful. " Gil looked at the floor, lost in thought.

"Gil," Stacey sat forward to get his patient's attention. "It is normal for you to fantasize about getting revenge against those that hurt you. Most rape victims, especially those that are male, have these fantasies. It's normal for anyone who has been hurt to want revenge. What's important is what you do with these feelings." Gil looked up at the other man and earnestly thought about his words. "Do you want revenge, Gil?"

Gil thought for a long moment before he was able to answer. Despite the fantasies he had never really thought about whether he actually wanted revenge or not, and this was the first time that anyone had asked him that.

"No," he quietly replied. "I w-want to move on w-with my life."

"Good," Stacey smiled. "That was the answer I was hoping for."

Stacey rose from his chair and crossed the room to his desk. Gil watched curiously as he pulled a sheet of paper off the top of a pile and crossed the room again to reclaim his seat. "I have something that I want you to do, Gil." Stacey said as he handed Gil the sheet of paper. Gil looked at the plain white paper that contained a list of questions. When he had quickly skimmed through the list he looked up at Stacey and awaited an explanation.

"I give this list to all of my patients when they are ready to move forward with their lives and put what happened behind them. You're at that point, Gil. You have decided that you don't want to dwell on what happened and that revenge will get you no where. During the day, when you have these fantasies, what you need is a distraction to break that train of thought. I want you to get a special journal or notebook, something that's going to be significant to you, and every time that you have one of these fantasies break that train of thought and sit down and answer one of those questions. Write out the question and your answer. Take your time and date it too, that way sometime in the future you can look back and see all of the progress that you have made."

"And w-what about the nightmares?" Gil asked after a moment.

"Do you sleep at night, Gil?"

"Not really."

"Did Doctor Diller prescribe you a sleep aide?"

"Yes, I take Ambien."

"Hmmm…" Stacey pondered Gil's answer for a moment before speaking. "I read an unofficial study about a month ago that was written by a research doctor about Ambien. It said that some people that take it have been known to have terrible nightmares, and some even become violent in their sleep."

Gil felt his hopes rise at this new piece of information. Could it be that the main catalyst for his night time violence was something that was meant to help him? He realized that Stacey was trying to get his attention and that his thoughts had drifted beyond their conversation.

"Gil, I want you to call Doctor Diller and tell him what you told me about the nightmares. Tell him that they are intense and constant, and that you have been violent during them. Tell him that you want to stop taking the Ambien and need something else."

When they had finished their session and both men had risen from their seats Gil paused reluctantly. Stacey watched Gil's hesitation curiously and smiled when Gil reluctantly held out his hand to shake. Stacey was touched by the older man's courage and gently shook his hand.

"Have a good week, Gil, and I'll see you in a few days." As Stacey walked Gil to the door he stopped and pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Gil. "Have you given any further thought to group therapy, Gil?"

Gil took the card and read it. "I've thought about it," he shrugged. "But I don't know if I'm ready to step out like that yet."

"That's okay, Gil, you need to take your time at this. The recovery process is a long, hard road but you you're going to make it, Gil." Stacey's warm smile enforced his comment and Gil nodded gratefully.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After leaving Stacey's office Jim drove him to the Desert Palm Hospital, which was not far from the office building and Gil was surprised that he had been able to see Doctor Diller at all. Stephen Diller had been shocked by Gil's news and immediately took him off the Ambien and prescribed him a new sleep med.

On the way home Gil asked Jim to stop at a book store. They sat in the parking space for a long time while Gil looked at the building. Jim watched his friend with concern and saw the fear in his eyes. "You okay, Gil?"

The sound of Jim's voice startled Gil and he looked at his friend. "Yeah… I just…"

"We can go home if you want."

"No, I need a new journal."

"Do you want me to go get you one?"

"Thanks, but I need to pick it out myself." Gil sighed. "I just…"

"I know, being in a public place must be tough for you." Jim said calmly. "Why don't we go in together and I'll stay right by your side."

Gil closed his eyes. He was again assaulted with feelings of resentment that Jim felt that he needed to hold Gil's hand in public. Gil took a deep breath and let out a long sigh as Stacey's words floated in his mind. "Okay." Was all Gil said and they went into the store.

Jim stood next to Gil at the front of the store as the two men surveyed the number of bookcases before them. A young man approached them with a broad smile on his face and a heartfelt greeting. "Good morning, gentleman, how are you today?"

Gil stiffened at the man's forwardness and Jim touched his hand to Gil's elbow, reassuring his friend that he was there. The young man's resemblance to Michael O'Tool was frightening. The same red hair, only without the green highlights, and styled the same way. He had the same green eyes and the same freckles. Gil had noticed his other, similar features, but it was the hair that stuck out the most. For a moment, he thought he was looking at the man that had tormented him.

"We're good." Jim replied with a smile, but remained mindful of Gil's posture. "Where do you keep your journals?"

They followed the young man as he lead them to the back of the store and a full rack of journals. It took all of Gil's strength to make his legs move. His breathing increased and became ragged.

"You okay?" Jim whispered as he watched his friend with concern. "You want to get out of here?"

Gil wanted nothing more than to run out of that store and go home. He wanted to get away from the young man who sent shivers through his body, though the clerk was oblivious to the reaction that he caused. When Jim thanked him for his help the young man left them to attend another customer but Gil remained tense and afraid.

"You okay?" Jim asked again, concerned for his friend, and Gil nodded as he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

Gil wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he knew this was something he had to beat and he took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to relax a little. He skimmed the multitude of journals with his eyes but nothing stuck out to him. Until his eyes fell on the one with the brown leather binding and he pulled it off the shelf. It wore a simple brown, leather cover and on the front was a single, blue butterfly. Jim watched his friend silently as he traced the winged creature with his finger. It seemed as though the two shared a connection… a bond.

"I'm ready." Gil said solemnly and they made their way to the counter.

Gil stiffened again when he saw the young man ready to check them out. He felt reassured when Jim lightly touched his elbow again and set his new journal on the counter. After he had paid for his merchandise Gil couldn't get out of the store fast enough. He didn't look back as he and Jim left, but if he had he would have seen the young man whispering a joke to one of his colleagues as they watched the two men leave.

____________________________________________________________________________________

That afternoon, while Jim and Sara slept, Gil relaxed on the couch. He sat up straight when he realized that he had been having another fantasy and opened his new journal and took out the list of questions. He looked at the first question and wrote it on the first page of his journal.

"What is good in my life?"

Gil thought about his answer for a long time before he began to write. Gil proceeded to use the first two pages to tell about his friends who had all been a great support and strength. He wrote about how Sara had helped him and made him feel. He wrote about the comfort the others had given him when he was so vulnerable and scared. He even added a few lines about the devotion Hank had shown by never leaving his side.

When he was done Gil looked over what he had written and set the book on the coffee table with a satisfied smile. He reveled at how much better he felt when his thoughts dwelled on the answer to the first question and not the thoughts of revenge. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off his chest, and off his heart.

Gil looked down at Hank who lazily lay on the couch beside him. He scratched the boxer's ears and smiled when he raised his brown eyes to look up at his dad and his ears perked when Gil spoke.

"What do you think, boy? Are you hungry?" Hank immediately jumped off the couch and danced in an excited circle. Gil laughed. "Yeah, you hungry, boy?"

Hank danced in his stationary circle again as Gil rose from the couch and grabbed his cane. As Gil made his way to the kitchen Hank became more excited. It wasn't the thought of food that excited the pooch. He could sense a change in his dad. The tension that he had sensed when Gil was on the couch was gone and he felt a happiness about his best friend that excited him.

Hank pranced around Gil and ran to his basket of toys in the corner. He grabbed his favorite toy, a thick rope that was knotted on both ends, and ran back over to Gil. He crouched playfully on his front legs and let out a soft, challenging growl.

Gil stopped and looked down at the boxer. "Oh, is that what you want?" He smiled as he reached down and grabbed the other end of the rope. He pulled hard against Hank but the boxer would not budge. "Give me that rope, you mutt!" Gil growled as he pulled hard on his end.

Hank thrashed his head from side to side as he dug his claws into the carpet and pulled back with all his strength. Gil matched the dog's growl as he gritted his teeth and pulled against Hank's surprising strength. "Give it to me, you brute!" Gil dug his heels into the carpet and dropped his cane for a better grip.

Hank gave one final, hard pull and Gil lost his footing. He fell hard on his right side but did not relinquish his grip on the rope. "You friggin' mutt!" Gil laughed and Hank let go of the rope. The boxer rushed around to Gil's side and began to lick his face with an excited ferocity.

"Get off of me, you cheating, son-of-a-bitch!" Gil laughed as he tried to defend himself against the dog's assault. "HANK!!!" Gil choked passed his laughter.

He finally pushed the boxer off and struggled to sit up. He felt hands grab him under his arms and pull him up into a sitting position. Gil looked up to see the concerned look on Sara's face and started laughing again. He helplessly wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to calm himself.

"Are you okay?" Sara tried to hold her concerned look but a smile broke onto her face and she could not deny the good feelings that grew in her to see and hear him so genuinely happy.

"Ye… ye… yeah." Gil finally managed as he held his sides and quelled his laughter. He bared his teeth at Hank and playfully growled as he spoke. "This mutt is trying to beat me up."

He made a playful grab for the dog but Hank crouched again and barked at his buddy. Sara laughed and looked up to see a sleepy looking Jim walk out of the hallway. "What the hell's going on out here?" Jim rubbed his eyes and saw Gil sitting on the floor. "Gil, you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jim," he laughed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you guys."

"All's forgiven; I'm just overjoyed to see you so happy." Sara caressed his face with her hand as tears welled in her eyes.

Gil kissed her palm and then her lips. They helped him to his feet and Jim handed him his cane. "You hurt, Gil?"

"No, Jim, I think I'm fine." He looked at his watch and realized what time it was. "You guys hungry? I can fix you a bite to eat before you leave."

Sara and Jim looked at each other, surprised by the change, and said yes. Gil happily busied himself in the kitchen while the two went to shower. He answered the door when he heard the bell and smiled as he ushered Warrick inside.

"Hey, Grissom," Warrick was surprised to see Gil open the door for him, but not as much as the light-heartedness of his friend and mentor.

"Hey, Warrick, are you hungry?" He lead the younger man into the kitchen. "I just finished dinner."

The four friends sat around the table and ate meal that Gil had made with little assistance. They laughed and enjoyed the conversation until Jim and Sara had to leave. Warrick had offered to help Gil clean up the mess but Gil had been insistent that he wanted to do it himself.

The two men had enjoyed a quiet evening and finished their game of chess before retiring for the night. Gil had told Warrick that he could make it upstairs by himself and wished the younger man a good night before calling Hank to join him.

That night he flushed his Ambien and started taking the new sleep med. But his nightmare returned. Gil slowly writhed under the covers as his body was covered in sweat.

Shelling forcefully pulled Sara out Gil's arms. She screamed his name and Gil felt chains wrap around his body and pull him back when he reached for her. "SARA!!!" He struggled against the invisible restraints as he screamed her name. "SARA!!!"

"SARA!!!" Gil screamed as he bolted upright in bed and fought the blankets that were wrapped around his legs.

Warrick rushed through the door and around the bed, ready to duck. He grabbed Gil's arms. "You're okay, Griss, you're okay!"

Gil tried to escape the younger man's grip but when Warrick called to him a second time he stopped struggling and realized his surroundings. He slowly kicked off the covers, with Warrick's help, and put his feet on the floor as he held his head in his hands. His body shuddered as the realism of the nightmare clung to him.

"You okay?" Warrick asked as he handed Gil a cold glass of water.

Gil looked up, surprised, as he hadn't noticed Warrick leave and accepted the cold drink thankfully. He drank it down and set the glass on the nightstand. After a long moment Gil took a deep, shuddering breath and let a long troubled sigh.

"It t-takes time…" Gil verbally reminded himself and Warrick nodded as he sat on the bed next to his mentor. "Diller said that it w-would be a few days before the Ambien w-would be out of my system."

"You want me to stay up here, man?"

"No," Gil replied quietly after thinking about it for a moment. "I just… w-want it to go away."

"I know, man, I know." Warrick put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "It will, just give it time."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Hello, my name is Esther and I attend the Writers In The Closet Association, where I'm not only a member I'm the president. It is a place for unheralded writers, who have the talent but not the fame, to gather and wait in painful anticipation for a little credit and a few compliments. We are a desperate group that are starved for what little credit we feel is due us. We crave to have our lustful ego's stroked. (it's not as dirty as it sounds, but it feels oh... so... good)We are a misunderstood group of women who just like to have our buttons pushed. So please, won't you push my button?**

I know, I know, that sounded weird and gross, but you have no idea how long it took me to come up with that;) Somewhere... someone... is shaking their head in disbelief and disgust right now as they are assaulted by the worst images ever. By the way my favorite line in 27 was, "Come for me, Esther. Feel your release and come for me." OH COME ON!!! You were thinking the exact same thing!


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Hello W.I.T.C.A. members and non-members, sorry that this taken so long but sister technology struck again and rendered my lap top internet incapable. Luckily I still have the family desk top so I don't have to visit Stinky at the library. YAY FOR ME!!! In the words of Master Wong,**

**"Technology is like a well aged prostitute. She has taken many years to learn her tricks. She laughs at you when you are naked, but you keep going back because she is the _only _prostitute that I can afford."**

**I owe a big thank you, once again, to JellyBeanChiChi. (not that I will ever tire of saying it) I must be getting something right because she didn't have to change much:D Also to sidle77 for telling where _not_ to put it.**

**WARNING: This chapter does get mildly graphic.  
**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Face the Music Twenty-Nine

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil looked down at the card in his hand. In bright red the words CIRCLE OF HOPE were etched on the plain white card. He didn't know if he could ever really be comfortable around unfamiliar men ever again, much less being asked to share his experience with them in a circle. Then he recalled the discussion that he and Stacey had had the week before.

_"Gil, I'm sure that you've heard the expression 'there is strength in numbers.'" Gil nodded. "It's the same with victims of rape. Your friends have been a great help to you, Gil, but because they have not fully shared your experience they cannot fully understand what you're going through." Stacey waited while Gil silently thought about what he had said. "That's one of the best things about going to a support group of any kind, Gil. And these are all men who have been through the same thing that you have. The pain and fear. The humiliation and self-loathing. And just because you go doesn't mean that you have to speak. It doesn't mean that you have to share what has happened to you. But you may find it strengthening to be there with other men who know what you are going through. Many of them, including the leader Ernie, have been dealing with this for years, and could give you hope and strength that you will get through this. Just think about it."_

Gil looked at the meeting time on the card. Wednesday Nights at 6:00. He looked at Sara, who sat on the other end of the couch, and sighed. She looked up from the forensics journal she was reading and met his eyes.

"What's up?" She smiled.

"I… uh… am going to a meeting later."

"Yeah," she set the journal down in her lap. "What meeting?"

Gil took a deep breath. "Stacey has been talking to me about group therapy… and… I think I'll give it a try."

Sara smiled and took Gil's hand. "Do you want me to drive you?"

"No, I… I can drive myself." He looked back down at the card. "The meeting's at six."

"Okay," Sara was reluctant but it was something that he needed to do for himself. "I'll get dinner started then."

Gil didn't have much of an appetite that evening. He pushed the food around on his plate as he felt nervous and borderline upset. He didn't like the thought of being so exposed to people that he didn't even know, but reminded himself that he didn't have to share if he didn't feel like it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil pulled up outside of the crisis center and parked his car. He sat in silence for a few minutes fighting the urge to skip it and go home. After a while he looked at his watch and made himself get out of the car. He limped into the hall and looked at the directory to find the meeting room.

When he walked into the room he noticed the aroma of coffee and was a little surprised by the number of men in the room. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Before he could turn back to the door a man with a quiet voice and a friendly smile greeted him.

"Hi there, my name's Ernie."

Gil watched Ernie as he made a relaxed approach towards the newcomer, and couldn't help the fear in his eyes. Ernie never offered to shake his hand, but he wouldn't have refused if Gil had been more willing.

"I'm Gil." Gil nodded and forced himself to hold out his hand.

Ernie shook his hand but was gentle and unassuming. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Gil. Will you be joining us tonight?"

"Um… yeah."

Gil followed Ernie to the circle of chairs as he called the others to start the meeting. Gil reluctantly sat in the chair that was closest to the door and the others there did their best to give him some space. They smiled at Gil and said hello, which he quietly returned, and turned their attention to Ernie. The meeting was not long and when they were done the others mingled and talked over coffee and cookies.

Gil couldn't help but notice the man who had sat across from him during the meeting and had looked at him curiously several times. Gil stiffened when the man rose from his seat and crossed the circle to claim the seat next to Gil.

"Hi, I'm Peter." The man held out his hand then caught himself and retracted it. "I know what you're going through. My first meeting scared the hell out of me." Gil stayed silent but watched the man out of the corner of his eye. "I remember you… Gil Grissom."

Gil inhaled sharply as he looked at the man who somehow knew his name. Gil looked around as paranoia crept upon him. Peter held up his hand to surrender and calm Gil.

"It's okay, Mister Grissom," he spoke softly so that they wouldn't be heard by the others. "You probably don't remember me, but I'm a… friend. I… uh… I was raped during a home invasion four years ago." Peter looked down at his shoes. "Two men broke in one night and… decided they wanted more than my money and that if they raped me I wouldn't report it. I almost didn't, but I started to think about my family and friends and realized that if I didn't report what they did than it would give them the chance to do it again. I couldn't bare the thought that my lack of courage could make me as guilty as them by not trying to stop them." Peter swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and Gil relaxed a little as he listened to this man that he did not know pour out his heart. "When the police arrived they didn't believe me when I said that I was raped, but the break in was obvious. Then… the Crime Scene Investigator arrived. The officers were laughing about it while I was being tended by the paramedics… I could hear them… making remarks." Peter looked up at the wall and studied it for a long moment. "And I will never forget what the investigator said to those officers, 'What makes you think that he wasn't raped? Is it his dislocated shoulder or his bloody pajama bottoms?'"

Peter looked at Gil and Gil finally recognized him. "Peter Gibson."

"Yeah," The young man nodded. "I didn't think that you would have remembered me, but… I never forgot you, Mister Grissom, and how you spoke up for me to those officers." Tears welled in Peter's eyes. "And I will never forget the words you said to me. You said… 'I believe you, Mister Gibson.' You don't know how much that has meant to me over the years. When the memories and flashbacks haunted me, and when my own family didn't believe me when I finally opened up and told them what happened. I always remember your words… they helped me get through it." He looked Gil in the eye. "This is a very hard road, Mister Grissom, and I'm sad that you have been forced to journey upon it. All of these men have struggled to get passed what happened to them, and I'm happy to see that you are trying to put it behind you too."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Gil walked through the door of the townhouse that night he was met by an anxious Sara. She asked him how the meeting had been, he said it was fine. He leaned against the door for a moment then fell into an old routine. He went to the living room and turned on the stereo. It didn't matter to him what CD was in there, he just needed time to think and process what he had learned at the meeting and music always helped him do exactly that.

As the notes etched from the violin played Vivaldi's Four Seasons they floated from the speakers and made their way to Gil's ears and his mind was flooded with images.

CRACK!

The memory of the whip slashing the flesh of his back was so vivid that it made him jump. His body stiffened as he heard the whip again. Tears welled in his eyes as he remembered every stroke of pain that he felt at the merciless hands of his captors.

_Rubin Denalgio walked into the room with O'Tool close on his heels. Gil kept his head down and his eyes on the floor as Rubin stepped in front of him. Rubin sneered at his captive as he noticed that Gil was trembling. Gil gasped sharply when Rubin grabbed his exposed cock and squeezed it hard._

_"Do you like that, slut?" When Gil didn't respond, holding onto a final thread of resistance, Rubin pulled up hard on Gil's cock, forcing him to stand on his toes as he cried out in pain. He still did not reply. "Well, we'll see how resistant you can stay after I whip you like the mongrel dog you are."_

CRACK!

Gil's entire body shook and he felt he's knees weaken. Sara stepped into the room as he hit the power button on the stereo and stumbled towards the armchair. Gil's legs gave out just before reaching the chair and he fell to the floor, his full weight landing on his right knee. Sara ran to his side and pulled him into her embrace as he began to panic.

"Shhh… it's okay." Sara held him tighter as his body shook violently in her arms. "I'm here, baby, I'm here."

Gil jumped when he felt the crack of the whip again and cried out as his body remembered the pain that he had been forced to endure. He whispered the names of butterflies, but with another inaudible crack of the whip he cried out in pain and started naming the bones of the human hand.

Sara listened to his whispers as they were muffled by his cries and tears welled in her eyes at the thought of what his mind was forcing him to relive. He cried out again as he felt the whip. Her heart tore open when she heard his scream of pain and she held him tighter.

_Gil saw Shelling, sitting before him, sipping a drink as he watched. There was no mistaking the pleasure in his captor's eyes or the fact that it increased every time Denalgio struck Gil with the whip. Every time Gil cried out in pain as his body twisted and arched. The sound of Denalgio's laughter was the only thing that Gil could hear beyond the crack of the whip._

Slowly, the images and sounds began to fade away and Gil's mind came back to reality. He was reclined in Sara's lap where they both sat on the floor. He couldn't remember how he got on the floor, but he did remember her grabbing him and holding him tight.

He sobbed repeatedly as his body calmed and he closed his eyes when Sara pressed a kiss on the top of his head. He had been hugging himself when she grabbed him and now she held his arms firmly to his chest. He didn't pull away and he didn't try to push her away. He simply stayed in her embrace until he felt calmed.

"I'm s-sorry." Gil whispered after a long silence.

"I'm not." He looked up at her as she eased her grip but didn't let go. "I love you, Gil. You're my heart and soul. I want to share everything with you, and that doesn't stop when you're in pain." Her voice hitched with a sob but she continued. "When you're reliving this… I want to be here for you."

When Gil had calmed a little more she helped him up off the floor and upstairs. He walked unsteadily to the bathroom and slumped against the wall before he even reached the door. Sara had not left his side and grabbed him before he could fall. He felt sick to his stomach and she helped him into the bathroom and to the toilet. Just as she lifted the lid Gil fell to his knees as his stomach emptied itself. Sara helplessly rubbed his back and sat next to him while he finished. When he finally forced his body to stop dry heaving he flushed the toilet and Sara helped him get off the floor. Gil felt completely spent and Sara silently helped him out of his clothes. She handed him his pills and steadied his shaking hand so that he could get them into his mouth.

When he had taken his pills and brushed the taste of vomit out of his mouth Sara helped him to the bed. She had helped him out of all but his boxers and he lay down before she could get him into his pajamas. He just didn't care. He wanted to get the images that had forced themselves into his mind out, but they would not go.

As Sara cuddled into Gil's side she felt the total tenseness of his body. He held her with a fierceness that made her feel uncomfortable. She propped herself up and looked down at him. He met her soft, brown eyes with his own haunted, baby blues and her heart ached for him. She wanted to help him relax.

"Gil, honey, what can I do to help you?"

Gil thought for a long moment before he shook his head. "I don't know." He whispered as fresh tears welled in his eyes.

Sara thought for a long moment then asked him to roll over onto his stomach. He was very reluctant. "Do you trust me, Gil?"

"With everything." He whispered after a moment.

Sara helped him roll onto his stomach as she sat next to him on the bed. Most of the lacerations had healed, leaving scars and very thin strips of scabs. She hadn't noticed the fresh tears in her own eyes until they rolled down her cheeks. She carefully traced his scars with her finger before leaning forward and pressing soft kisses over them.

Gil lay with his face against the pillow and tried to control his breathing as her touch invoked emotions from deep within him. Sara could not explain the feeling, but it was as if something drew her to these scars. It felt as if he needed a healing in these scars that went so much deeper than the skin and as she continued to press her kisses against them his body seemed to relax some.

Gil closed his eyes as the memories of his whipping seemed to melt away. Sara kissed her way over each scar until she reached the last one that stretched across his shoulders then kissed her way up the back of his neck. She nestled her face in his hair and stayed like that, just soaking in his scent and taking comfort in the closeness.

After a long moment Gil rolled back over and looked up at Sara. They maintained eye contact for a long time before he caressed her face and pulled her head down to kiss her softly on the lips. He slowly kissed his way down her neck as he rolled her onto her back and pressed a single kiss between her breasts before resting his head in the valley between them.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes and took solace in the sound of her heart beat. They lay still like that for a long time before Gil brought himself back up to lay next to her and she cuddled into his arms. He held her close as he fought back the emotions that warred within him.

"I will never… fully understand…" He searched for the right words as they whispered from his lips. "How your touch can make my bad feelings go away."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

That night the team had gathered in the layout room and went over Gil's case.

"Jim and I were finally able to meet with an agent from vice yesterday," Catherine began. "And asked about Gil's theory of Shelling running a prostitute ring." She opened the folder in her hand and displayed some pictures on the table for them to read. "He said that about ten and a half years ago they picked up three eighteen year old girls for hooking on the strip. All three of them had the same tattoo on their right buttocks." She showed them a picture of an R with an S snaking through it.

"Reggie Shelling?" Warrick asked.

"They couldn't prove it," Jim continued. "Although the agent said that he was sure that's who the mark belongs to, and none of the girls would talk."

Nick looked at the picture for a long moment before he spoke. "You know, when Ecklie and I interrogated O'Tool he had a bunch of tattoos that he hadn't had when he was picked up. He even had his head shaved. I'll bet he might know about this."

"It's worth asking him." Catherine said. "Let's go see him."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine and Nick quietly sat at the table in the interrogation room and watched Michael O'Tool for a minute. The young man kept his eyes on the table and didn't speak. Catherine pulled the picture of the R S tattoo out of the file in her hand and put it on the table for Michael to see.

"Tell me about this tattoo." Her words were not a request.

Michael looked at the picture and his face reddened. He quietly rose from his seat and turned his back to them. He bent forward and pulled down his pants, revealing the same tattoo on his right buttocks. Catherine and Nick frowned at each other and told Michael to have a seat.

"Why do you wanna know about my tat?"

"Where did you get that, Mister O'Tool?" Catherine tried to remain professional despite her shock.

"Reggie Shelling… he gave it to me when I…" He looked up at the investigators then back down at the table. "I'm not from Vegas, you know. I grew up in Houston. Back a few years ago… I got in a fight with my mom. I wanted her to run away with me… to someplace where my dad couldn't find us… couldn't hurt us anymore. She wouldn't leave him." Michael bit back his tears. "She just stayed with him. He'd get drunk and beat us… and she'd just stay with him. I couldn't do it anymore and I left. When I got to Vegas I was broke." He laughed despite his emotion and Nick and Catherine quietly listened. "I was sleeping in an alley under some news papers… and eating out of a dumpster when Reggie found me. He said that he would feed me and give me a place to stay… but I had to do something for him."

"How old were you, Michael?" Catherine calmly asked.

"Seventeen. Reggie did what he promised. But I didn't realize what he wanted until it was too late."

"He wanted you." Nick said after a long silence.

"Yeah, he trained me hard for a month. He taught me how to be a good, little bitch. He taught me how to obey the buyer and give them exactly what they wanted." Michael's tone was bitter and his eyes were full of hate.

_The closet door opened and Michael turned his face away from the light. His hands were tightly cuffed behind his back and he had been forced into an awkward position with his legs underneath him. Reggie grabbed Michael's arm and pulled him out of the closet._

_He pushed Michael to his knees and the young man sat, bewildered, with his eyes on the floor. Reggie had stripped Michael of his clothes days ago when he had arrived and now Michael shivered as the cool night breeze blew in through the open window and touched his bare skin._

_Michael didn't need to look up to see that Reggie was opening his pants and pulling out his hardening cock. Reggie stroked it a few times as he watched the young man before him. "Open your mouth." Reggie ordered._

_Michael accepted Reggie's cock and sucked it hungrily. Michael knew that if he hurried he wouldn't be given his next fix, which his body demanded despite the fact that he had never wanted the drugs to begin with and had been forced to take them. If he took too long to get his Master off he wouldn't be fed, and the hunger pangs were starting to flare up again as the drugs were wearing off._

_Michael set an even pace, as he had learned to do soon after his captivity, and soon Reggie's moans filled the room as he grabbed Michael's hair and began thrusting into his mouth. When Reggie came he came hard and shot his hot cum down Michael's throat._

_Michael forced himself not to gag as he swallowed every drop of Reggie's putrid cum. Reggie grabbed the younger man's hair again and yanked his head back._

_"Who owns you?" Reggie sneered in Michael's face._

_"Y-You do, Re-Reggie." Michael's voice trembled with his body._

_Reggie pulled him to his feet and pushed him face first on one of the three beds in the room. The other two beds were already occupied by two teenage girls that had been chained to them and were being forced to pleasure two other men._

_Reggie grabbed Michael's hair and yanked his head back. "You be a good boy, and pleasure him, and I'll make you happy when he's done." Reggie slapped Michael hard on the ass before speaking to someone else. Michael felt the bed dip as a naked man that he was not allowed to know covered Michael's body with his own before ramming his hard cock into Michael's battered ass._

"What went wrong?" Catherine interrupted, breaking Michael from his train of thought. "Why were you arrested?"

"I worked my corner for a moth before I realized that I was being watched, but by then it was too late and I was busted. The charges were solid and I went to prison."

"Why didn't you tell them about Shelling?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Michael sneered. "I'd rather go to prison than chance suffering anything Reggie would do to me for snitching."

"And that's where you met Denalgio?" Nick asked.

Michael laughed bitterly. "Yeah, that's what you could call it."

"Than why don't you clarify it for us." Nick was losing his patience.

"All I know is that Reggie's brother owed some sort of debt to Rubin and he couldn't pay it."

"So Reggie gave you to Rubin Denalgio as a payment." Catherine said, putting the pieces together.

"Yeah, and Rubin liked that. Ever been sold for half a pack of cigarettes? That's what Rubin would charge the inmates to fuck me in the ass. Four cigarettes if you only wanted a blow job. You want to see Rubin's mark?"

Neither Nick nor Catherine objected as they were both curious. Michael stood up and pushed down his pants again and pulled out his cock. The teeth marks that completely ringed his cock were clearly visible and very painful looking. Both investigators gasped in surprise and Michael sneered.

"Rubin took 'bite me' literally. I can still feel every single time that he sunk his teeth into my dick."

"That's enough." Nick said as he and Catherine stood. "We're done here."

The two friends silently left the prison and Nick drove them back to the lab. On the way there they discussed what had been said.

"What debt do you think John Shelling could have owed to Rubin Denalgio?" Nick asked, perplexed.

"Well," Catherine thought. "John had a drug habit and Rubin was a dealer. He was probably sneaking drugs into the prison and John racked up a bill."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine and Jim were getting ready to leave the lab that morning when Ecklie called them into his office. When they entered they saw the District Attorney leaning against his desk. Conrad asked them to sit and they did so warily.

"What's going on?" Catherine asked as both men seemed a little reluctant.

"O'Tool's attorney is pushing his right for a speedy trial." Conrad began. "Further more… their claiming that O'Tool was a victim and not an assailant."

"What, how the hell can they claim that?" Jim sat up in his seat as he looked between the two men.

"They're claiming that O'Tool and Doctor Grissom are…" The young DA looked at Conrad for support.

"They're claiming that O'Tool and Gil were actually gay lovers… and the video of O'Tool forcing Gil to… do things was actually a porno they did together before the kidnapping."

______________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: I know, what an awful place to leave you guys. Hmmmm... perhaps I should rectify that??? Why don't you tell me what I should do:D No, not that! About the story:D**

**Hmmm... everybody still hating O'Tool? That is what I am most curious about.  
**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry this one took so long, but the good news is that I should be getting my laptop back Friday:) YAY!!! But at least I can post before any of you have the chance to get out your pitch forks and torches.**

**I am not surprised by the response I had on the last chapter. I was pleased, however, that despite the fact that you all still _hate_ O'Tool (which is more than understandable) some of you were understanding of his situation.**

**I owe a HUGE thank you to JellyBeanChiChi on this one. She was a great guide, as well as beta, and kept me on the right path.**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Thirty

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Reggie sat in the dance club and took a long drag off his cigarette. It was an off-the-strip dive that had few patrons and was owned by a seedy man named Allen. Reggie had done a great deal of business with Allen over the years and had provided him with many of his girls. Allen had granted Reggie free and open access to his club many years ago.

The stripper before him slid her body down the silver pole and leaned forward to tease Reggie with the possibility of grabbing her breasts. Reggie took another long drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke in her face.

"Asshole." The woman mumbled under her breath as she stood back up.

Despite the loud music, Reggie heard the insult and grabbed her ankle. He yanked on her leg and pulled her off the stage. She cried out in pain as he held her down on the table top. Her back pressed into the hard surface and his hand clenched around her throat. She whimpered as she held his wrist with her hands and struggled to breathe.

"What was that?" Reggie asked as he lowered his face until it almost touched hers. "You forget your place, you miserable, fucking, cunt?!"

She shook her head as her face grew red from lack of air, and tears welled in her eyes. He eased his grip but did not release her while his other hand slinked down her body and slid between her legs. The only thing that kept him from inserting his fingers into her was her panties, but that didn't stop him from rubbing her hard.

He laughed as she whimpered under his touch. He put his cigarette between his lips and used his free hand to rip open her bikini top. He took another long drag off his cigarette and again blew the smoke in her face. His eyes lowered to her nipple.

"You always did have nice tits." Reggie commented casually as he touched the red hot coal on the end of his cigarette to her nipple.

The young woman cried out in pain, but tried to muffle it by biting her bottom lip, as he pressed the ember harder against the tender bundle of cartilage and nerves. She had learned long ago not to fight Reggie, because he always won. And if she made any of the customers unhappy Allen would punish her severely. She had learned that the hard way when he had chained her up in the basement, at Reggie's prompt for not giving another seedy customer a blow job, and left her there for three days while he brought down his friends or paying customers and they all abused her.

Reggie threw her on the floor and laughed as she scurried away, holding her painful breast. He smiled wide when he saw the three men approaching him. "Raoul."

The tall, black man laughed heartily as he hugged Reggie. "How you doin', brother? You know Pick and Ramsey?"

Raoul motioned to his two associates and Reggie nodded. Reggie and Raoul sat at the table, and Raoul's associates stood behind him watching the stripper that had taken the previous girl's place.

"Reggie, man, I'm sorry to hear about Johnny Boy. That's one loss that can never be replaced." Reggie threw back his shot and looked away so as not to cry. "And I heard about Rubin too. I know you two were tight."

Reggie's head snapped back to look at his friend. "What about Rubin?"

"You didn't know, man? They iced Rubin at that warehouse."

Reggie's expression changed to one of rage. "I thought the pigs might have nabbed him, not fuckin' killed him!" Reggie paused as he forced himself to calm some. "I've been out of touch for a while. Had a lot of shit to sort through. I thought he was just laying low for a while. Who did it, Raoul? Who iced him? I wanna fuckin' know!"

"I don't know, man, word from my connections is that it was some ho."

"What?" Reggie didn't want to believe his ears. "Rubin got iced by some bitch?! Not _fucking _possible!"

"That's the word that's going around, man." Raoul leaned forward in his seat and Reggie did the same. "Word on the street is that you fucked up one of theirs, and they fucked up one of yours."

Reggie smiled at the image of Gil underneath him and rubbed his crotch with his hand. Raoul had no idea how much he had fucked up Grissom. "Yeah, I fucked up one of theirs, and I'm not done yet."

Raoul recognized the look in his friend's eyes and remembered seeing the same look in his eye when he punished one of his sex slaves, and felt a shiver running through his body. "What'd you call me here for, man?"

"I need to reopen my market. I sold off the rest of my slaves a few months ago and I need to get some more."

Raoul rubbed the whiskers on his chin as he thought about his friend's request. "I think I can get you some hos. There's this teen runaway center that's being condemned. A lot of them kids gonna be out on the street if they don't wind up being owned by the state."

Reggie smiled at the idea. "Lots of tight ass and sweet pussy." Reggie leaned back in his chair as his cock twitched at the thought of being in control of business again. "If you can get your hands on a few of those little boy toys too, that would be good. You always knew what I liked."

Raoul chuckled. "Yeah, man, I know what you like. When do you want 'em?"

"I have some unfinished business to take care of first. But when I'm done… we're going to be in business."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Sara awoke she was nestled in Gil's arms. Her head rested on his chest and she gingerly lifted herself to look up at him. He had been watching her sleep and smiled when her eyes met his.

"Good morning," she smiled back at him. "How did you sleep?'

"Quite well," he said honestly.

"That's great, baby," Sara leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "Happy birthday."

He quirked his eyebrow at her, and she smiled and nodded her head. He started to chuckle to himself. "I… didn't even realize it." He feared that she might have planned a big gathering for the event. And although he wanted to know, he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "So… what's on the agenda… for today?"

"Don't worry. There is nothing big planned. I invited the team over for an early lunch and some cake. I have a couple of gifts for you." Sara grinned at him seductively before turning and grabbing a card out of the drawer in her nightstand.

His brow creased when she handed him the card, which he opened cautiously. Sara watched him as he read the front of the card aloud. "To the man who has my heart and soul, body and mind. There is only one thing left that I can give him."

Gil opened the card and froze at what he saw. Sara was confused by his expression and looked at the card to make sure the picture was where she placed it. "It's my very first sonogram picture." She looked back up at him and smiled. "It's our baby, Gil."

Gil sat up straight and stared at the photo. Sara might have swore his heart stopped because he didn't move a muscle. Then she saw his finger trace an outline of the womb on the photo.

"It kind of looks like a lizard."

Despite the serious, deadpan nature of his tone, a shy smile crept on his face. It was enough expression to allow Sara to blow out the breath she unconsciously held. She draped her arm around his shoulder and looked over his shoulder. She glanced from his face to the photo in his hand. "Gil. Is this OK?"

"I... You took this a few days ago," he said, pointing at the date on the photo. "How far long are you?"

Sara's arm left Gil's shoulder and she held her hands in her lap. "Before everything happened, I was a few weeks late, but I didn't think about it and then you were taken and I figured I might be late because I was so worried..."

Gil shot his head up. Sara could see tears forming in his eyes. "You're OK, right?"

"No. Honey. I'm fine. I'm about 11 weeks," Sara said. "And the baby's fine, too."

Gil swiped his eye. "You're already a good mom. You're thinking of the baby before I am. You're going to be a wonderful mother, Sara."

As he spoke those words, the hand not holding the photo gently caressed Sara's knee. Before he could pull it away, Sara grabbed it and held it in her lap. "Thank you, Gil. You know, you're going to be a wonderful father."

"You don't know that Sara. I... I never had a father. I don't know the first thing about children... And I... I don't even know if I can financially support you two."

Gil stood up and started to pace, but Sara followed suit and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We'll support each other."

As they stood in silence, Sara could feel Gil's tension and the erratic rhythm of his breathing. "Gil? You OK?"

"I'm scared."

"I am too."

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Neither do I."

At that Gil turned around in her arms to face her. He gently cradled her face with his hands. "You can do anything, Sara."

"So can you, Gil."

Her words broke him. He grabbed her in an embrace and closed his eyes tightly to keep his tears at bay.

"Gil, I believe in you," Sara whispered in his ear. "You are the most devoted man I know. You've shown me unconditional love and I know you will do the same for our child. You'll teach our child honor, integrity, discipline and strength."

"And bugs," came a muffled from Sara's shoulder.

Sara couldn't help but laugh, and they faced each other again. "Thank you, Sara."

"You're happy?"

Gil's face broke into a huge smile and he kissed her full on the mouth. Although she longed to deepen the kiss, he gently pulled away, undid the tie on her robe and brushed the garment off her shoulders. She stood in front of him in a short tank top and her panties. He kissed her neck and with a gossamer touch trailed his hands down the length of her bodice to her belly.

Sara closed her eyes for a moment as she savored his gentle touch. But the draw to watch this man worship her body was too great. She looked down upon him. Ignoring the pain in his knee, he knelt in front of her and reverently kissed her abdomen as his hands caressed her hips. One of Sara's hands braced upon his shoulder while the other wound itself in the curls of his hair.

They were silent as they lovingly stroked one another. Then, Gil playfully licked her bellybutton and blew upon it, causing her to let out a laugh. He stood up again and she reveled upon seeing the smile upon his face.

"I'm not just happy, I'm blessed," Gil said. And before she could reply, he passionately kissed her, deepening the kiss as she desired a just a short time before. He lifted her off the ground and walked the short distance to the bed. He broke their kiss only to place her on the bed, hover above her body and kiss her once more.

Their kiss was deep and passionate and the longer they kissed the more their need grew. Gil's hands worked to remove her scant clothing, and Sara made quick work of doing the same for her love. Their movements became more fervent as they felt skin upon skin. Gil gently squeezed her breast and Sara arched her back in response. Taking it into his mouth, his other hand rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Sara arched herself until Gil rolled on his back. Sara straddled him and massaged his chest with one hand and his hardened cock in the other. Gil grabbed her hips to guide her upon his erection, which Sara did with pleasure. She felt so good on him. He panted for breath but suddenly felt awkward. Like they were being watched.

"Oh God, Gil," Sara said as she thrust herself on him. "God, I want you inside me."

Gil couldn't shake the feeling and when he opened his eyes he was looking into the familiar brown eyes of their boxer, Hank. Hank's head tilted to the side when Sara moaned and he wondered if his mom was okay. Gil tried to close his eyes and concentrate on the feel of Sara, but it wasn't going to work.

"Sara… we can't… do this." Gil panted as Sara began to pump his erection with her hand.

"Yes… we can. The guys won't be over… for a few hours."

"No, Sara… I can't do this. Not while the dog is watching."

She stopped and he grasped her chin with his hand and turned her head to face the pooch. She started laughing and dropped her forehead to his bare chest. He joined her laughter as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her to him. Sara raised her head looked at Hank.

"I'll take care of this."

They both moaned in disappointment as Sara left the bed to put Hank out of the room. But Gil's reaction to seeing her pert ass was immediate.

Then the phone rang. Gil left out a frustrated sigh as he rolled over to the cordless phone on the nightstand. "Brass."

"Go ahead and take it," Sara said as she she still held Hank next to the door. "Thanks a lot, boy. You see what you started?" she cooed. "And mommy was about to get laid."

Gil heard the comment and tried to conceal his chuckle as he answered the phone. "Hello Jim."

On the other line, Jim was caught off-guard by Gil's non-traditional phone greeting. _"Gil? How you doing?"_

"Oh great. It's my birthday."

Although Gil's tone was happy, Jim couldn't help but wince at the mention of the occasion. _"Yeah. Yeah, buddy that's right. I'm surprised you remembered."_

Gil looked across the room. His hungry, blue eyes meeting Sara's compassionate, loving brown eyes. "Sara reminded me, and in the most wonderful way."

_"Well, I'm glad, buddy."_

Gil was expecting some light-hearted teasing from his friend, but Jim seemed no-nonsense on the phone. "Jim, is everything OK?"

_"Well... not really Gil. Catherine and I need to talk to you and Sara about the case,"_ Jim said, stammering upon his words.

"My case?" The words caught Sara's attention and she retrieved her robe from the floor, put it on and went to sit near Gil on the bed. "What's going on, Jim?"

_"Gil... ah hell... I'm not going to lie to you. We need to talk to you about something that I don't want to talk about over the phone. It's going to be tough to talk about, OK? You and Sara need to be prepared for that. It's going to be rough, Gil."_

Gil stood up straight and when he saw Sara reach out to him with her hand, he took it. "Is this about Shelling?"

_"No. O'Tool."_

Grissom sighed. He didn't think he'd have to worry about that name. There was so much evidence against O'Tool, he hoped he wouldn't ever have to see his face again unless he watched him die from a lethal injection.

_"But, Gil, please. I don't want to talk about it over the phone,"_ Jim pleaded.

"I understand Jim," Gil said. "What about after the party today?"

_"Gil, are you sure you want to talk about this today?"_

Gil looked in Sara's eyes, but he found his gaze move to her abdomen. No, he didn't want to talk about O'Tool. But the tone of Jim's voice told him he had to. He had to show strength to the woman he loved and the child he loved.

"No, Jim. Today. We'll be ready to talk today."

They hung up. Gil sat down on the bed and embraced Sara. They both went to lie down, and Gil spooned behind Sara.

"What's going on, Gil?"

"Jim and Catherine need to talk to us about the case," Gil said.

"O'Tool?" Sara asked, she felt Gil's arm start to shake slightly as he held on to her tighter.

"Yes."

They both said nothing more for an hour before getting out of bed and preparing for the party.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil sat upstairs on his side of the bed and looked at the picture in his hands. One could barely make out the features on the little life and Gil would have been overjoyed if his mind was not still filled with self-doubt. As he looked down at the image of what was to come he hoped that he could truly be all that Sara saw him. He let out a troubled sigh as he heard the doorbell ring, and Sara greet their company.

"So, where's the birthday boy?" Greg said enthusiastically, as he held up a colorfully wrapped package.

"Hey, everyone." Gil greeted as he carefully made his way down the stairs.

They all said happy birthday together and he blushed a little as he thanked them. Sara wanted to tell them their news but was unsure if Gil was ready to reveal it yet and decided to leave it up to him. An awkward silence seemed to fall over them. As the last time they were all together like this had been the day that he'd had his worst seizure yet and everyone was a little nervous at causing the same reaction again.

"Sara gave me an early gift." Gil said, finally breaking the silence. "W-Want to see our first baby picture?"

"Your what?!" Catherine screamed excitedly causing Jim, who stood beside her, to cringe.

Gil's smile couldn't be beat as the others gathered around him to get their first look at the coming Grissom baby. All the men patted Gil on the back and Catherine gave him a gentle, but short, hug. Gil felt a little uncomfortable by their contact but he reminded himself that they were family and that he was safe. He remembered Sara's words that none of them would hurt him. They all hugged Sara before she summoned them to eat.

They had all gathered on the patio and Nick fired up the grill while Jim grabbed the meat from the fridge. Warrick came out of the house, after going in for drinks, and pointed to Al who followed him.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" He pointed at the older man behind him as he laughed.

"You won't be laughing, Mister Brown, when I wrap my cane around that big head of yours." Al replied playfully then turned to Gil. "A little birdie told me that someone is yet another year older today."

Gil grinned. "Yes, but I'll never be as old as you. You w-want to see the gift that Sara gave to me?"

"I don't know, _do _I?" Al asked with mock wariness.

"AL!" Sara laughed as she stared, open-mouthed at the coroner.

Gil handed the sonogram picture to Al and the older man put his glasses on to get a better look. His demeanor changed as he looked back up at his friends and his smile was genuine. "I can't tell you how happy I am for the both of you."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The party had gone a little longer than everyone thought, and Gil found himself anxious for everyone to leave. There was still unpleasant business to experience.

But it wasn't just Grissom who felt tense. Jim and Catherine had taken things in while the others said their goodbyes and left. Catherine saw the troubled look on her friend's face and gently squeezed his arm.

"Some birthday," Jim shook his head sadly. "Happy birthday, Gil, oh and by the way…"

He sighed as he closed his eyes for a moment and lowered his head. When they had gathered themselves they went into the living room where Gil and Sara sat alone. They were laughing at the gag gift that Al had given him and stopped when they looked up to see Jim and Catherine walk in. It was the expressions that their friend's wore that quieted them and they remembered Jim's call earlier. They sat down in front of the couple.

"Ecklie approached us this morning before we left the lab…" Catherine began. "Michael O'Tool is pushing for his right for a speedy trial."

"Why would he do that?" Sara asked warily.

"He's claiming…" Jim let out a troubled sigh as he struggled to explain. "O'Tool is claiming that he's a victim… and not an assailant."

"What?!" Sara asked as she sat up straight and looked back and forth between her friends. "How can he claim that?"

"He's saying that…" Jim looked at Catherine for a moment but couldn't continue.

"He's claiming that you and he are actually… gay… lovers." Catherine picked up and Gil looked up at her. The horror that flashed in his eyes was quickly replaced by anger. "And that the tape he made of himself forcing you to… do things, was actually a hardcore porno that you asked him to make with you before the kidnapping."

Gil was shocked. He thought that this was finally getting behind him, but to have these false claims be brought up made the memories rush back at him and their voices returned to haunt him. Sara was not so quiet as she jumped up from her seat.

"How can they even make that claim?! What about his injuries?! Surely those will show that he didn't do this willingly. And what about the time stamp from the video? That should corroborate with the other videos."

Catherine let out a troubled sigh. "O'Tool's lawyer is saying that the injuries were made during the making of the film, as it was supposed to be a BDSM film, and that those scenes were cut during editing. He claims that O'Tool took the video to Rubin Denalgio to produce it. He says that Denalgio wanted more and when O'Tool said that Gil wouldn't want to do more Denalgio got upset and forced O'Tool to take him to Gil. They got to the scene that Gil supposedly told O'Tool he would be working on but he was already gone and they used Greg to get to him."

"As for the time stamp," Jim picked up. "The chip was damaged when the camera was busted. Archie can't get a clear time and date off the chip. What's worse… is that O'Tool's lawyer is invoking his right to face his accuser."

Everyone looked at Gil. When he looked at Jim, Gil mistook Jim's reserved nature as accusation. Jim's eyes met Gil's and for a brief moment he realized what Gil was thinking.

"Is that what you think too, Jim? You think that I'm a faggot?!"

Jim was taken aback. "God, Gil, no. I know you're not what those men said you were." Jim scooted forward in his seat as Gil's question gave him more clarity and courage. "Those fucking animals are trying to control you beyond their grasp. The things that you heard them say must keep haunting you over and over." Gil nodded. "I know you, Gil. You're my best friend… hell… you're like a brother to me. And I don't believe a _goddamn _word that O'Tool has to say about you, because I know you… I know who you are…." Jim felt tears sting his eyes.

"We all know who you are, Gil," Catherine added. "This is just a ploy, Gil. It's inhumane and it's _fucking _wrong. We love you, Gil. You've got to believe that."

"And more importantly… we know you love Sara and that baby on the way," Jim added.

Sara forced herself to sit back down, but her body was tense and her hands were clenched into tight fists. Catherine continued. "They say that they'll not push for you to testify if the DA will cut a deal. If the DA will take the murder of the police officer, which O'Tool claims he didn't do, the two counts of kidnapping and the two counts of rape off the table, and leave O'Tool with the DUI and time served they will not push for you to testify and… your relationship with O'Tool will not be revealed."

"And the judge won't help us because of some _stupid _remark he made in a similar case last year and the media came down hard on him for gay bashing." Jim said bitterly. "So the only thing that will keep that animal locked in a cage where he belongs is… your testimony, Gil."

The thought of having to share what happened to him with anyone made him anxious. But the thought of telling it to a whole crowd of people made him begin to have panic attack. His began to struggle for breath as he furiously rubbed his thighs with his hands and began to rock back and forth. His friends became worried as they watched him.

"Gil, baby," Sara turned to him and cupped his face with her hands. "You have to calm down."

Gil's panic and anxiety were quickly replaced with anger and rage. He pushed away Sara's hands and jumped up from the couch. His face grew red as he paced back and forth and Jim and Catherine stood up and became protective of Sara. Sara tried to push them aside and get to Gil, but they made her stay back.

Gil came to a stop, facing the wall, and was instantly consumed by his rage which demanded release. He punched the wall as hard as he could, striking his fist against a sturdy, wooden stud. His rage filled scream startled them all and when he whirled around Jim took a step forward, prepared to take down his friend if he lost control.

"W-Why can't I just be l-left the fuck alone?! W-Why can't I just have m-my l-life back?!" Gil took another step forward, but made no threatening gesture towards his friends. "W-What did I d-do to deserve this?!" Gil looked down at the floor as he began to calm again. "I'm not testifying. I w-won't do it. I… I c-can't."

Gil sat back down on the couch and became lost in his thoughts and memories. He closed his eyes and nervously rubbed his forehead as the vivid memories of O'Tool torturing him returned. Without even realizing it he protectively covered his crotch with his free hand as he tried to control his labored breathing.

_"Please... stop!" Gil begged._

_"The pain will stop when you suck my dick." The look in O'Tool's eyes was horrifying and Gil broke._

Jim motioned for the two women to join him in the kitchen. "I don't think it's good idea for Gil to testify." Neither women said aword as their friend struggled to hold back his emotions. "Just seeing him like this... if Vladimir gets him on the stand..."

Sara saw the tears in Jim's eyes and realized how bad he felt at even proposing the idea to Gil and pulled him into a hug. Jim hugged her back, thankfully, and allowed a few of his tears to fall. After a minute Sara let go of him and pulled back a little. She smiled at him as she offered him a tissue.

"It's okay, Jim, it's not your fault that it set him off. He's not mad at any of us." Jim nodded and she swallowed back her own tears. "Gil will... Gil Grissom is still Gil Grissom. And once he has had time to think and rationalize he'll know what he needs to do."

They all turned to face the doorway when Gil cleared his throat. His face reddened a little as he looked at each of his friends and then took a deep breath. "I... I couldn't stop O'Tool once. But I can this time." They began to see the old Gil shining through, as he shifted uneasily, and their spirits were lifted. "I'll testify."

Sara didn't miss the look in Gil's eyes. The blue orbs looked haunted and scared, but he never backed down or wavered. She hugged him tightly and he welcomed the embrace as he wrapped his arms protectively around her midsection and held her close as he buried his face in her shoulder.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: This W.I.T.C.A. meeting is here-by called to order. Hit the green button below to log in:D Now, is everyone pushing each other's buttons? Good! In the words of the late, great Moe Howard... "Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke..."**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Hey everyone, I am sorry that this is so late. I just realized that it has been a week and a half but that friggin' wheel started to spin out of control. With work, tech issues and my own apprehension about messing this chapter up I have been putting it off a little. But we're back on track remember one thing while you read this: I am NOT a lawyer:D I also wanted i=to thank you ALL for your reviews. You have thrown me over the 500 mark!!!  
**

**A BIG thank you to JellyBeanChiChi she was an AWESOME help with this chapter and a big encouragement. And also to sidle77 for offering a helping hand.**

**___________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-One

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After Jim and Catherine told Gil and Sara about O'Tool's new plea on Friday, Gil had two and a half days to think about his testimony to deliver on that Monday. There wasn't a minute that passed during the weekend in which a thought from his ordeal didn't come to mind.

He had done so well over the past couple of weeks to gradually keep those memories at bay. But now he tapped into them. He had to recall all of those memories to prepare to testify. On Saturday, the District Attorney came to the house to discuss the case and testimony. The event left Gil exhausted, Sara worried and the DA unsure if he would see Grissom at the trial.

Sleeping was a challenge for Gil. The Thursday before his party was the first night since his rescue that his sleep was unencumbered by nightmares. But sleeping through the night was a thing of the past once more. After spending the rest of Friday recalling the memories of his ordeal the nightmares hit him full force again.

His only defense for the nightmares was to avoid sleep. When Sara would ask him to come to bed he would say that he would be up in a little while but would never ascend the stairs. Sara would lie in bed until she couldn't take it anymore and go back downstairs and try to comfort him, or putter around the house when he insisted he was fine.

Sara had been valiant in her efforts to keep Gil distracted, but her efforts were to no real avail. Just as he dwelled on his memories, Sara found herself doing the same. The trial would be brutal to witness, but she had to be there for him.

Perhaps they needed more help. When both Gil and Sara started therapy Stacey gave them his cell phone number for emergencies. He had told Gil and Sara he trusted them with the number, and said if things become to tough to handle, to give him a call.

After the DA's visit, Sara called Stacey Saturday afternoon. The news of the trial troubled Stacey.

_"How is Gil doing?"_

"He hasn't slept at all. Maybe a catnap or two, but wakes from nightmares, so he hasn't bothered trying to sleep anymore. He sits and dwells on the memories from his kidnapping and attack. I can see it all coming back to him, Stacey, and all the shame and self-hatred coming with it."

_"And how are you doing, Sara?"_

She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's tough to see him like this. And it's tough to think what will happen in the courtroom."

_"Sara… would you like me to meet you and Gil at the courthouse, and be there for support?"_

Sara let out a troubled sigh. "You don't have to do that."

_"I know I don't have to do it, Sara, but I would like to as long as it won't make either of you uncomfortable."_

Sara thought for a long moment. "I'd like that. Thank you, Stacey."

_"You're very welcome, Sara. Is Gil there? I would like to talk to him for a moment if I may."_

Sara handed the phone to Gil and told him who was on the line. "Hello?"

_"Hello, Gil, it's Stacey. Sara told me what's going on. How are you handling it?"_

"Okay," Gil sighed. "I just… I don't know if I can do this."

_"Well, Gil, you don't have to do this…"_

"Yes, I know that. But if I don't O'Tool w-will w-walk and I just can't let that happen. It w-would go against everything that I've stood for. I just… I just don't know if I'm strong enough to testify."

_"Gil, you are one of the strongest men I have ever met. And deep down inside of you there is a strength and courage that will you tap into when you get onto that witness stand. And Sara will be there, and she has asked me to be there. Will that bother you if I am there?"_

Gil thought for a moment before giving his reply. "No, I… w-would be grateful."

_"Than I will see you Monday morning at nine?"_

"Yes, and… thank you, Stacey."

Stacey smiled on the other end of the line. _"You are very welcome, Gil. Try and get some rest. Focus on the breathing exercises and pick up your journal. Read over the entries you have written during your recovery."_

_____________________________________________________________________________________

At six o'clock Monday morning the bedside alarm beeped and Gil reached over and shut it off. Both he and Sara had laid in bed all night but neither of them had really slept. Gil pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. Hank came around and sat in front of him, watching him anxiously.

"Morning, boy." Gil said without enthusiasm and scratched him behind his ears.

Sara watched him as he pushed himself up off the bed and hobbled into the bathroom. She looked down at his knee and knew that it was hurting him more these days although he never said anything about it. Gil was an impatient man and that mixed with his nightmares meant that he had spent all too much time on his feet.

Because he had spent the weekend refreshing the memories of his kidnapping everything seemed to trigger a memory or flashback that morning. When he drank the glass of water down with his pills his body shook as he flashed back to Shelling forcing him to drink down the bottle of water. When he took off his boxers and t-shirt he flashed back to those animals stripping him of his clothes as they laughed in anticipation.

Gil stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet and was instantly hit by a cold blast of water while the temperature adjusted. He fell hard against the wall and slammed his eyes shut as he was assaulted with images and sounds. The image of Michael O'Tool standing over him with the empty metal bucket in hand after reviving Gil from unconsciousness. The sound of Rubin Denalgio's laugh as he poured the ice water over Gil's back and watched him try to squirm away. The feeling of Denalgio throwing him against the cold cement wall and the feeling of O'Tool backhanding hard across the face several times after he had passed out from the pain.

Gil felt a renewed sense of shame as he remembered his own willingness to give in so that his suffering would end. Gil felt so bitter and his self-hatred began to renew itself at the thought that he had been broken so quickly. He began punching his right thigh to release the quickly growing rage in him as the memories continued to assault him.

He did not hear Sara enter the bathroom, and he did not hear her enter the shower. He jumped when she grabbed his fist, stopping him in mid-punch. He opened his eyes and looked at her as his body continued to shake.

"Talk to me," she pleaded as she cupped his face with her hands.

"I can't do this." Gil looked down at the floor, the shame all too evident in his eyes. "I can't face him."

"You can. Your strong enough."

Gil reluctantly looked up at her. "They b-broke me, Sara." He looked back down at the floor as he fought the tears that were struggling to fall free. "I… I j-just w-wanted it to st-stop. I tried to fight it b-but… I c-couldn't take any more p-pain." He looked up at her with pleading eyes as he felt the need to explain his self- hatred and doubt. "It hurt so b-bad, Sara, I just w-wanted it to stop… that's all."

Sara didn't try to stop her own tears as she pulled him into her embrace. He had always been a strong man and he still was, she knew that. But despite the progress he had made in the last weeks she could still see the self-hatred in his eyes. She held him tight as he cried on her shoulder.

"You were trying to make it out of there alive, Gil, and you were being brutalized. That doesn't make you weak or broken, baby, that means you're human and that you have limits like the rest of us."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

As it came close to the time for them to leave the doorbell rang and Sara answered it. When she came back into the living room she was leading Jim who smiled and wished Gil a good morning.

Gil looked up at him in surprise. "W-What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd drive you two to the courthouse." Jim said with a small smile.

By the time they arrived Gil felt like he was in a fish bowl. He could see all that was going on around him but it all felt distant and muffled. Jim had driven his car into the parking garage and turned to look at his friends who sat side by side in the back seat.

"Umm… did either of you watch the news Friday night?"

Sara shook her head and admitted that they hadn't watched any television all weekend.

"They reported the trial Friday night on the news." Jim cringed inside when he saw the horrified looks in their eyes. "They didn't give details about you, Gil, they never even mentioned your name. But they said that O'Tool had been involved in the kidnapping and sexual assault of a highly-regarded crime scene investigator. So there may be a few vultures in there looking for a story."

It took a little reassuring on Sara's part for Gil to find the courage to get out of the car. They took the elevator up the few floors needed and when the doors opened the three friends stepped out. Sara stood to Gil's left and Jim to his right as they walked down the corridor to where the courtroom was.

As Jim had predicted they saw several reporters with their cameras and microphones waiting to catch a glimpse of the victim. When they saw the three companions walk towards the courtroom doors they raced to them to get the first interview. Gil squeezed Sara's hand hard and Jim took his elbow as he felt his friend tense.

"Doctor Grissom! Doctor Grissom!" One young man yelled. "Are you the investigator that was attacked by Michael O'Tool?"

"Are their claims of you being his gay lover true?" Asked another.

Jim and Sara pushed their way forward, but there were too many who demanded answers and Gil began to shake violently as they surrounded him. Two tall and familiar figures stepped in front of the three and began pushing the reporters aside so they could get through to the courtroom. Then they felt two more people step up behind them and push them forward as the two men worked their way towards the courtroom with the companions, while keeping the reporters at bay.

Once inside the two officers shut the doors, effectively locking the reporters out. Jim, Sara and Gil looked to see who had come to their rescue and were a little surprised to see that it had been Nick and Warrick who had held back the reporters and Catherine and Greg who had pushed them forward.

Sara whispered thank you to them and Jim nodded in agreement. Gil was still too shaken to say anything, but they understood and took their seats in the back. Jim and Sara walked Gil up the center aisle to sit behind the District Attorney. When he saw them take their seats the DA turned and smiled at them.

"I'm glad that you decided to testify, Doctor Grissom." He said in a low voice. Since meeting with Gil on Saturday, the DA was unsure whether Grissom would follow through and show up. But he would not have blamed the older man if he hadn't.

Gil turned slightly in his seat when he heard Stacey speak his name. "Hi, Gil, how are you doing?"

"I'm nervous." Gil said quietly. "I still don't know if I can do this."

"Gil, don't forget how strong you are. You have the strength and courage to get up on that stand and tell the jury what O'Tool did to you. You _can _do this."

Stacey's words rang in Gil's ears as his eyes fell on Michael O'Tool who sat on the other side of his defense attorney. He looked different with his head shaved and the new tattoos he wore, but when he looked back over his shoulder at Gil for a brief moment Gil recognized his eyes.

When Michael looked away Gil bowed his head and closed his eyes as his breathing increased and became ragged. Sara gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he forced himself to calm. The bailiff stepped forward and asked them all to rise for the honorable judge and when they did Gil felt like his legs would collapse.

Gil sat silently as the DA and defense attorney gave their opening statements. He had not heard what they said about him and O'Tool except for certain words and phrases. He tried to shut it out for the most part to keep himself calm.

The DA began to present his case, calling Conrad Ecklie as his first witness. He showed the bull whip and roach clips that were used to torture Gil, asking the investigator if he recognized them.

"Yes," Conrad replied. "I collected those at the warehouse where we found Grissom and back at the lab we collected blood samples from all of them and sent them to our DNA lab. There they confirmed that all of the DNA collected from all of the items was in fact Dr. Grissom's."

"And do these shackles look familiar, Mr. Ecklie?"

"Yes, those we also found in the warehouse and it was confirmed that the blood sample we collected from those was in fact Dr. Grissom's DNA. All of the items found match the wounds that Doctor Grissom sustained during his captivity."

Ecklie's testimony included the introduction of further evidence, including crime scene photos and medical reports on Grissom's condition.

The DA interviewed Jim, as he was the first officer on the scene, and when he stated that he had been the one to shoot and kill Rubin Denalgio he had not mistaken the look of gratitude in Michael's eyes when he looked up at the detective for a brief moment. And when they DA showed the two disks of Gil being raped and the one of Gil being whipped Gil kept his eyes closed and his head bowed as he began to shake violently. Sara rubbed his back as he struggled to control himself. The sounds of their voices and the words that they spoke to him brought it all back in a rush, and as the videos played he relived every moment again in his memory.

The defense lawyer had not been easy in his cross examinations of the witnesses. He had asked them about Gil's personal life and his work record. Ecklie was asked whether he believed Grissom would be capable to keep a secret homosexual relationship a secret.

"I don't believe so," Ecklie said.

"Did you know about his supposed relationship with his subordinate, Sara Sidle?" the lawyer asked.

"I... I had my ideas, but nothing confirmed about it."

"So he effectively kept it a secret."

"Yes, but it wasn't a surprise..."

"That's all, Mr. Ecklie."

The defense attorney asked Jim about a case Gil had worked the previous year where he had asked the judge to go easy on a young, gay man. Jim had argued that it had nothing to do with the young man's sexual orientation but the defense had stated that it did indeed seem that Grissom leaned toward standing up for homosexual's and their rights.

When the DA called Gil to the stand he had to repeat the request as Gil hadn't heard his name the first time. Sara squeezed his hand and nodded when he looked at her. Gil grabbed the railing and used it for leverage to stand. He moved past Jim to get into the aisle and slowly and nervously made his way to the witness box.

Gil took the oath and sat down. The DA approached the stand and asked him to state and spell his full name for the record. "Doctor Grissom, had you ever seen or met the defendant before your kidnapping?"

"No."

"The defendant claims that you and he are actually gay lovers and that the two of you were making a bondage-discipline, sado-masochism pornographic video together, and that in fact that was what the video of the two of you together is. Is this true Doctor Grissom?"

"No, it is not." Gil took a deep breath and steeled himself against the coming request.

"Doctor Grissom, in your own words, could you please tell the court exactly what happened to you from the phone call from Reggie Shelling on Mr. Sander's phone to being rescued by detective Brass?"

Gil took another deep breath and steadied himself as he felt a sudden wave of nausea crash over him and remain. He told all of the grueling and grotesque details as he could remember them. He hadn't missed a beat except for the things that he had been unconscious for. Even when the DA showed him the whip and clips and shackles he maintained like granite.

"That is all your honor." The young DA said as he sat back down.

Gil took another deep breath as the defense lawyer stood up and addressed him. "Doctor Grissom, I want you to know that we all understand how difficult this has been for you. And that you have been through a horrible ordeal. In today's society homosexual's are gaining their rights but still struggle against the bigotry of people in their everyday lives...."

"Objection, your honor," the DA stood up. "Is there a question there?"

"Your honor, I'm just letting the witness know it is understandable he would fear my client, Mr. O'Tool, from revealing the truth about their sexual relationship."

"Move along, counselor," the judge said. "Get to the question."

"Yes, your honor," the attorney said, returning his attention to Gil. "Mr. Grissom, isn't it true that you have had a relationship with my client in the past?"

"No." Gil said, almost mechanically.

"Mister Grissom, need I remind you that you are under oath? My client has said, in a written statement, that you and he have been lovers for the past year and that the making of the video was your idea. He also states that he was not a willing participant in the kidnapping of you or your young colleague, Mr. Sanders. But that he was forced by Reggie Shelling and Rubin Denalgio into those acts."

The lawyer watched Gil's interaction with Sara and the way he had maintained eye contact with her during the DA's questioning, and still did now. So the attorney stepped in front of Sara, blocking her from Gil's vision. "I have phone records showing that you called Mr. O'Tool many times." He held the paper out for Gil to see. "Is that not your number?"

Gil looked at the paper, forgetting about his glasses, and squinted hard to see it. The numbers looked a little blurred but he didn't recognize the number as his cellular, home or work phone numbers. Yet, he felt unsettled the lawyer would bring up in court a fictitious number.

"I-I don't r-r-recognize that number." He felt coloring rising in his cheeks as he began stuttering again.

"You don't?" The defense attorney became bold knowing he had confused Gil. "That's not your number?"

"N-n-no," Grissom said. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "No. That is not my cellular number, my home number, my pager nor my work number."

"Perhaps none of those. But isn't it the number of a prepaid cellular phone you used for the sole purpose of calling Michael O'Tool?"

Grissom understood what was happening. He never had a phone like that, but there was no way to prove the phone never existed. Again he took a deep breath. "I n-n-n ... never owned a pre-prepaid phone for the sole purpose of calling Michael O'Tool. I never talked to him..."

The attorney cut him off. "On the night in question, Mister Grissom, isn't it, in fact, true that Michael O'Tool never initiated the acts upon you?"

"During my kidnapping, he r-r-raped me," Gil's knuckles turned white as he clenched the arms of the chair. He wished he could see Sara, and all the eyes watching him unnerved him more.

"But he was told to do so, isn't that right, Mister Grissom?"

"I don't know ... I just remember him r-r-raping me."

"And Reggie Shelling was the one who tortured you and Rubin Denalgio was the one who whipped you."

"Y-Yes, b-but…"

"Not my client. Isn't it true that after Rubin Denalgio forced you to give him oral sex that he told my client to do the same?" The lawyer raised his voice to be sure that all heard him.

"Y-Yes." Gil had remembered hearing Denalgio say it.

"And isn't it also true that after Reggie Shelling and Rubin Denalgio anally raped you Mr. Denalgio told my client to do the same?"

"I-I-I d-don't re-m-member." Gil had been in so much pain and shock at that point that he truly couldn't remember what had been said by his captors.

"Then what do you remember, Mister Grissom? Do you even remember my client being there?" The lawyer's tone was abrupt and unnerving.

Gil closed his eyes for a moment. The memories flashed through his mind continuously, and as he maintained his grip on the arms of the chair he began to shake again as he felt his defenses crumbling and the nausea begin to overtake him. He had to get out of this room.

"Doctor Grissom, answer the question please." The judge said, startling Gil from his state.

Gil steeled himself again as he raised his head and the lawyer swallowed nervously. He saw the emotion in Gil's eyes shift from embarrassment to steely professionalism covering his controlled rage.

"Yes, I remember him being there. I remember being chained to the w-wall w-while he stepped down on my genitals." Gil maintained a leveled glare on the other man. "I remember begging him to stop. I remember him telling me that the pain w-would stop w-when I performed oral sex on him." Gil drew ragged breaths as he struggled to maintain. "I remember finally giving in after I had already passed out once from the pain. I did what he told me to do even though it sickened me then and it sickens me now. Then I remember him molesting my genitals while he rammed a large, phallic device in my anus. It was painful. It was demeaning. And it was torture."

Gil's control was beginning to slip away as he fought to stay in the chair and not run for the door. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he finished his testimony. "And after he made me ejaculate I remember him zipping up his pants and saying, 'You liked it, you faggot.' I am not a homosexual and have never been in homosexual relationship in my life. But what he did to me had nothing to do with sexual orientation. It had to do with power, pain and control. And while he did all that to me, counselor, Shelling and Denalgio were nowhere in sight. He chose alone to do those things to me against my will. I have never seen or had any prior contact with Michael O'Tool before I was taken. But he participated in my kidnapping and my repeated rape and torture."

The lawyer was unnerved by the look in Gil's eyes and the tone of his voice. There was no way to undo what he had done letting Grissom speak. "I have no further questions, your honor." He took his seat next to O'Tool.

The judge told Gil that he could step down and he did so, stiffly. He paused for just a moment as he glared at O'Tool, but the younger man kept his head down and would not look at the investigator. Gil walked down the aisle, passing Sara, but held his head high and forced himself not to rush. Sara and Jim followed and when they got to the door Stacey and the team left with them.

As Jim got out of his seat he had noticed a few of the female jury members swipe at their eyes as their tears began to fall. And he hadn't missed the look on a few of the faces of the men who were younger than Gil. They were disgusted by what the videos revealed and there was not one of them that hadn't turned a glare on O'Tool. As the companions reached the door the judge brought down his gavel and ordered a recess until the following morning.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: This is the part where I beg and cry for you to tell me how you liked it and what you thought. That okay, I'll do it, I'm not proud...:D**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Hello reader type people:D Sorry that it has once again taken me so long to get this out but I got stuck on that wheel again and someone jammed a stick in the spokes! Bastards! To all W.I.T.C.A. members... Are we still stroking?**

**I want to thank you guys for being patient and most of you for being non-threatening:) JellyBeanChiChi beta'd this and she done a good job:)** **And I meant to add this at the beginning of my last post but did it late and some missed it. Thank you to all of you for reviewing and pitching me over 500 reviews. It feels like a milestone:)**

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Thirty-Two

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil didn't hear the gavel as he walked through the courtroom doors. He was immediately approached by the same reporters who had bogged them down before entering the courtroom and Gil lost it. He pulled back his fist but felt a hand grab his arm as several police officers rushed in between the team and moved the reporters down the hall and out the door.

Gil spun around with his other fist raised and came face to face with Jim who looked at him worriedly. The others stood behind the detective and their faces matched his expression. Gil's eyes shot between his friend's and he turned and hurried down the corridor, as fast as his aching knee would allow, to the men's room. They followed after him but when they got there Jim stopped them.

"Let me go," he said quietly and even Sara didn't argue.

When Jim entered the restroom he automatically heard Gil retching. Jim found his friend kneeling in the first stall and quickly checked to make sure the other three stalls were empty before returning to Gil's aid. He stepped into the stall behind his friend and placed a reassuring hand on Gil's shoulder.

"It's okay, Gil, it's over." Jim said gently as he soothingly rubbed the other man's shoulder, and Gil fought the pursuing dry heaves.

When Gil was done Jim helped him to his feet and supported his friend's weight as they made their way over to the bank of sinks. Gil rinsed the nasty taste out of his mouth and splashed cool water over his face. He leaned forward on the counter and propped himself up on his hands. What he saw when he looked into the mirror disturbed him. His eyes were dark and bloodshot, and he could see in his pale face the capillaries that had been broken when he vomited. But what disturbed him the most was the mix of emotions he saw. Everything that he had worked so hard to control had begun to run amuck again.

"I'm sorry, Jim." Gil said quietly.

"For what, Gil?" The detective asked in an equal tone from where he leaned back against the counter.

"You never should have had to hold me back… and… I never should have turned on you."

Jim sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "Gil…" he struggled to find the right words. "You don't need to apologize to me, Gil. You've been through a lot, and you've made a lot of progress putting it all behind you just to have to dig it all back up again." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he glanced at his friend. "I… talked to Sara yesterday, and she told me that you weren't doing so well… Gil, I should have been there for you."

"W-What were you doing?" Gil asked without accusation.

"Trying to find new leads on your case. The whole team… we've been trying really hard." Jim tried to explain.

"Then you w-were there for me," Gil smiled, although strained, for the first time since his party. "And for that I can never thank you enough."

They smiled at each other in understanding and left the bathroom. On the other side of the door the rest of the team were gathered in wait. They all looked eager to see how their friend was doing and when Gil gave them all a weak smile they all felt a little relieved. Warrick had been comforting Sara but let her go when she went to Gil. She hugged him tightly and he matched her strength as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Shhh… it's okay," she soothed as she felt him begin to shake again.

It was a struggle for Gil to stay composed and not exhibit any of the emotions that fought for supremacy inside of him. But he did, for the most part, even though a few tears escaped. When he let Sara go he turned away and quickly swiped at his eyes. The others looked at the floor or in the other direction to give their supervisor some much needed privacy.

"Let's go home," Sara said quietly as she took Gil's hand and he nodded.

"You did very well in there, Gil." Stacey smiled as he stepped forward and shook Gil's outstretched hand. "You should be very proud of yourself. I watched the jury and I do believe that your testimony will do wonders in landing the conviction."

"Thank you," Gil said quietly. "And thank you for coming, Stacey."

"Dr. Grissom," The young DA greeted as he approached the group. "I think you put a real scare into the defense. Vladimir was… unsettled. You did an excellent job on the stand, sir."

_Sir. Gil immediately stiffened when he heard the word. Images of Shelling flashed in his memory. He could practically feel his head yanked by his hair and his jaw forced open. And he could hear Shelling's cold order: "Stick out you tongue."_

_Gil tried to resist and curl his tongue to the back of his mouth. But Shelling just smiled, and attached a roach clip to the soft, sensitive underside of Gil's tongue. Not one metal tooth missed its fleshy mark. Gil could feel how Shelling gave the clip a hard pinch and held it for several seconds so its teeth dug further into his tongue. Gil screamed in pain and thrashed in their grip till he slumped forward and gasped for air. His body shook as he sobbed_

_"Let that be a lesson to you." Shelling sneered. "Never speak without permission. You will only speak when given permission and when you do speak you will call us sir, and you will never look us in the eye, because you're garbage. Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, sir." Was Gil's painfully slurred reply._

"Is he OK?" the DA asked. Greg was quick to catch the attorney and tear his attention away from Grissom for his friend's sake.

"Gil," Sara called his name for the third time as she shook his arm.

Grissom's breathing was rapid and a haunted look dulled his eyes. Gil could still feel the headache caused by Shelling nearly ripping his hair out of his head, and he still felt the bite of the roach clip on his tongue. He began to panic, but he quickly looked at Sara.

"I have to get out of here." His voice was strained from the vomiting.

"Okay, we'll go." Sara said as she felt his tense body beneath her hand and more so felt his own fear clutch at her own heart as she felt her lover's pain.

Before Sara could address Jim, the detective searched the room for the best exit. A large crowd congregated in the corridor by the elevators. As he and Sara processed options to avoid reporters to reach Jim's car, Sara turned back to take Gil's hand. But he was gone.

Frantic, she saw him going through the front doors with Stacey in hot pursuit. Gil stepped into the bright Nevada sun and squinted his eyes against its glare. Reporters crowded at the courthouse steps and the same young man who had accosted him twice spotted Grissom again.

"Dr. Grissom!" he yelled, causing the other reporters to quickly join in.

"Gil, come back inside." Stacey urged as he grabbed Gil's arm.

Gil looked at the therapist and Stacey thought he saw a guarded smile in the older man's eyes and stopped trying to hold him back. Sara brushed passed Stacey and jumped in front of Gil, but Gil grabbed her arm and protectively pushed her behind him before continuing his controlled, dignified descent down the stairs. She came to protect him, but he needed to protect her. Sara could still feel the tension, and while they both felt tinges of panic, she knew he had a flashback. But he was fighting it… and he was winning.

Warrick, Nick, Catherine and Jim surrounded the couple and moved the crowd aside so they could pass. Gil and Sara climbed into the back of Catherine's SUV that was parked across the street. Catherine jumped in behind the wheel and sped off.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Greg watched with the district attorney as his friends led Grissom and Sara away. Before the D.A. went outside, Greg stopped him. "Could I ask you something?"

"Yes, Mr. Sanders," The man smiled as he turned around.

"That phone number that the defense presented as being the number Grissom used to contact O'Tool, was it processed?"

"To a prepaid phone, yes," the D.A. said. "Untraceable."

"I have a hunch I would like to check on it..."

"Sure," The DA wrote the number down on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to Greg. "Listen, you find out something, you let me know immediately. Here's my card, too."

"I'll do that. Thanks," Greg said as he turned and left.

Seeing Grissom on the witness stand, barely able to contain himself, ate Greg up inside. He had already been through more than any person should ever have to go through and to have someone try to worsen it and humiliate him publicly was more than Greg would take.

When he got to his car, he drove to the lab and went straight to the evidence room. He searched the racks for a moment and pulled down one of the boxes of evidence from Gil's case and sifted through its contents until he found what he was looking for. He held up the plastic evidence back and a triumphant smile stretched across his face.

"Next stop: Ecklie's office," Greg said to no one in particular.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The reporters felt cheated as Grissom left without a comment. But one member of the crowd seemed especially upset.

Reggie Shelling stood at the back of the crowd of reporters. The Yankees ball cap covered his slicked back hair and the dark sunglasses shaded his hateful eyes. The prop camera that he cradled on his shoulder helped him to blend in with the media professionals.

When he had heard about the trial he couldn't resist being there. He couldn't resist seeing Gil Grissom humiliated once again. The icing on the cake so-to-speak had been when he read the interview that defense attorney Carl Vladimir had given to the Las Vegas Tribune stating that Grissom was in a homosexual relationship with O'Tool. Reggie had laughed for twenty minutes after reading that and thought how glad he was that he hadn't killed the bastard in that shit-hole in the desert.

But now what he saw enraged him. He had not expected to see Grissom at all. Reggie had expected that the sniveling little coward would have scurried down to the basement with all the other rats and make a secret escape. Vladimir was known to be brutal to witnesses on the stand and Reggie had been sure that the attorney would have stepped on Grissom like the piece of garbage that he was.

But as he watched Grissom and his friends make their way down the steps and through the crowd Reggie found himself barely able to contain his rage. He did see something, though, that really caught his eye. The brunette that the investigator felt the need to protect from the crowd. She was beautiful, Reggie had to grant her that, although she obviously had poor taste in men if she was with Grissom.

Reggie caught himself as he reached down to rub his cock through his jeans. Not here. He thought. He knew it would have to wait, but not for long. Raoul had already found him a couple of potential slave girls and later he would enjoy imagining that brunette beneath him as he pounded into one of those teenage sluts. Vladimir had failed to reach his mark and get to Grissom, but Reggie wouldn't. Not this time. Now he would have the perfect leverage to completely destroy the bastard who destroyed his brother.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When they got into the car Gil's defenses began to break down. He shook violently as Sara wrapped her arms around him and images of his tormentors flashed through his mind. He punched his thigh with a ferocity that shook the SUV and Sara grabbed his wrist and held it in a strong grip as she held him tightly and whispered soothing words in his ear.

He rocked back and forth as the images continued their assault and he tried to push them out of his head. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to focus on Sara's voice as it mingled with Shelling's.

"It's okay, Gil," she whispered in his ear. "You're safe… they can't hurt you."

"They won't leave me alone!" He growled through clenched teeth and pulled a hand away to cover the ear that was furthest from Sara.

She saw him do this and realized he was trying to shut them out but still listen to her. She continued her chattering and by the time Catherine pulled into their driveway Gil had calmed. They helped him up the steps and into the living room where he sat on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" Sara asked as she sat down beside him.

"My p-pain pills." Gil said as he rubbed his forehead.

Sara went upstairs to get his medication while Catherine sat with him on the couch. When she opened the bottle it seemed to her that there should have been more in the container than what there were but she brushed the feeling off as she reminded herself that they were prescribed for every four to six hours as needed and Gil had probably needed the medication that often.

She took him his medication and after he had downed the pills and water they help him get comfortable on the couch and he draped an arm over his eyes, shutting out the world. Both women stopped in the doorway and looked back at the man on the couch. Each feeling something similar yet so different.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil and Sara sat on their couch that evening and settled in each other's arms. They enjoyed the sounds of the night outside as it sifted through the open living room window and the notes of relaxing music that drifted from the speakers. Hank lay on the other side of Gil, with his head rested lazily on his dad's lap. Gil sat with his arm around Sara's shoulders and his head rested on the top of her head which rested on his chest. The days events ran through their minds and Gil drew a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I've been thinking about the day you guys found me," Gil said. "I… don't remember a lot of it, or it's blurry at best. I remember… Denalgio… he was going to rape me again, but then I remember hearing Jim shout."

Sara sat up and looked at him.

"Jim said today that he killed Denalgio with one shot," Gil continued, "but I _do _remember hearing two shots fired."

"I fired the second shot."

"To kill?"

"I… shot off his… erection," Sara said, uncomfortable with the subject, but mostly with the memory. "I don't even remember aiming there. I just shot."

Gil shifted uncomfortably and found himself speechless. He hugged her tighter against himself and nuzzled her hair. "Thank you for saving me," he whispered and kissed the top of her head.

"It's late, we should get some sleep," Gil said. "The trial continues tomorrow at nine, and I want to be there to hear what O'Tool has to say."

Sara sat up straight and a look of apprehension took place on her face. "Are you sure you want to go through that again?"

Gil nodded and a soft smile graced his lips. "Yes. I won't be the one on the stand this time." He caressed the side of her face with his hand. "You don't have to go, honey, I'll understand. But I need to do this. I need some closure on this. I want him to see me when he sits on that stand tomorrow and lies. I want him to see that he hasn't beaten me… not this time."

Sara pressed a soft kiss to his lips which he returned and helped him up the stairs. As they lay in bed Gil rolled over and propped himself up to look down at his love. He kissed her full on the lips before moving down to lift her tank top and kiss her bare belly. He lay his ear against her stomach and listened for the tiny life inside. Sara smiled as she ran her fingers through his soft curls and relished the feel of his lips as he kissed her belly again.

"I promise," he said quietly as he lifted his head and looked down at her stomach. "When you join us in this world, little one, I'll be the best possible father that I can be for you."

He kissed her again as he lay down beside her and as they rolled onto their sides it was Gil who spooned Sara this time as he wrapped a strong, protective arm around her waist and slid his other under her head, hugging her close. She loved the feel of his strong arms around her and he fell asleep with one hand on her stomach and the other on one of her breasts. They slept soundly that night, safely nestled in each other's arms.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Did any of you shit bricks? Sorry, that's the kind of week that I've had:) Go ahead, tell me about yours.**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Hi there! I don't think this one was as long a wait was the last, but just remember that I have not forgotten:D We have been getting a lot of rainy weather here lately and that can put a dampener on _everything_. As always, I want to thank JellyBeanChiChi for a great beta job, and a few helpful hints:D **

**And to all of you who didn't believe that W.I.T.C.A. could make it, we're already growing! Last week we just developed our London branch, and with a little luck we'll have our mates in Australia admitting they're in the closet too:D By the way, I want to congratulate Kalsan on bringing her awesome story 'Lex Talionis' to a beautiful close. 50 chapters, baby! Way to go! Not sure I dare ask what's next;)  
**

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Thirty-Three

______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning Gil woke up early and shut off the alarm before it could wake Sara. He shushed Hank when the pooch got a little excited and the two quietly left the room, shutting the door behind them. When they reached the downstairs, he let Hank out into the back yard and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He opened the cupboard and got out his morning pills.

Gil sighed as he looked down at the bottle of pain medication and reluctantly turned his attention to the patio when he heard Hank whine and scratch at the door. He limped over to the sliding glass door and opened it for the boxer who ran inside and over to his food dish. Gil looked back at the pill bottles longingly before turning away in disgust.

He fed Hank before starting his own breakfast. Gil stood at the stove when Sara quietly walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He gasped in surprise as he had been deep in his own thoughts and had not heard her.

"Sorry," she chuckled as she rested the side of her face against his back. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's okay," he sighed as he took one of her hands and turned in her arms to face her. "Just didn't hear you."

They kissed good morning and Sara cupped his face when she saw his troubled eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Gil smiled, hoping to reassure her. "I just… have a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk?"

"Not really," he held his soft smile.

"Okay," Sara forced a smile and kissed him again. She had not wanted to let it drop so easily but did for his sake. "What smells so good?"

"French toast," Gil grinned. "My mother's own recipe."

"Mmmm… a special treat, huh?"

"Hmmm…" He kissed her again. "Speaking of special treats… you still have a birthday gift to give me."

Sara grinned devilishly. "Don't think that I've forgotten." She reached down and pinched his ass, causing him to jump and raise his eyebrows in surprise. "I think your French toast is burning."

"Oh!" Gil turned around quickly, almost knocking Sara backwards.

They didn't talk much as they ate breakfast. Gil had very little appetite as his thoughts quickly went to the trial. He knew he was going to have to see and hear a lot of things that would bring up horrible memories all over again, but he was not going to let O'Tool spout his lies without seeing that he had not beaten Gil. After a quick shower for them both they drove to the courthouse.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When they arrived at the courthouse, and Sara parked the car, they were surprised to see the team waiting for them in the parking garage, along with Stacey and Conrad.

"What are you guys going here?" Gil asked, surprised at their presence.

"Well," Jim stepped forward, "We know how stubborn you are and we knew you would be back again today."

"We didn't want you going through it alone, man." Warrick continued.

Gil looked at Sara and she smiled as she took his hand. "Thanks, guys," Gil replied. "It means a lot."

The bug man didn't miss the smug look on Greg's face as they walked towards the elevator and quirked a curious eyebrow at the younger man. Greg only smiled as they stepped onto the car. This time when they stepped off the elevator there were already police officers in the corridor and no reporters. Gil looked at Jim who smiled.

"I called in the cavalry early."

"Thank you." Gil returned the smile. The thoughtfulness of his friends continued to touch him.

The courtroom held the same people as it had the day before and Gil, Sara and Jim walked to the front as the others took their seats at the back. As the three companions sat down behind the DA he turned and smiled.

"Good morning," he said to all of them. "Dr. Grissom, there's been a positive development in the case. I think we'll be pleased with the outcome today, sir."

Gil cringed inside at the word but forced a smile. When the younger man turned back around he took Sara's hand and squeezed it hard as he shut his eyes. The court proceedings began and they sat and listened as the judge went through the opening and then asked the defense if they had any witnesses. Vladimir immediately called Michael O'Tool to the stand and asked him to share his testimony with the court.

O'Tool told all. He told of how he had been tricked by Reggie Shelling and forced to become a sex slave. Then he told of his arrest and how he had been sold by Shelling to Rubin Denalgio while in prison. He looked at the jury as the innocence showed on his young face and he told them of how badly Denalgio had used him in prison and how much he had controlled Michael after they had been released.

Then Michael testified that one night, while Shelling and Denalgio were gone on business, he had decided to go to a bar on the strip. That's where he had met Gil. "He was a nice guy, he bought me a drink and asked me to join him at his table in the back corner." Michael looked at the jury then back at Vladimir. "We sat and talked for a while and then he moved over and sat beside me… and started… caressing my face and touching my hair. I told him that Rubin was my boyfriend and he said that after what he had done to me in prison that Rubin didn't deserve me. He was the first person to ever tell me that I was too good for anyone."

"And what did Mr. Grissom do after that?" Vladimir asked as he crossed his arms and looked at Gil smugly before turning back to his witness.

"He paid for our drinks and asked me to follow him in my car. We went to a cheap motel off the strip and he rented a room for us. In all my life I have never been treated so well by anyone. After he made love to me he took care of me. We met when we could and he always treated me well. After a while he said that he wanted to make the porno with me. He said that he had never made one before and wanted to try it, and that the idea of BDSM had always intrigued him. You know the rest of the story after that."

Vladimir thanked Michael and turned him over to the DA. The young man stepped forward and addressed Michael. "You have quite a history, Mr. O'Tool. So, Mr. Grissom treated you well? You said you've never been treated so well by anyone?"

"Right. That's right," O'Tool said.

"So, when you met Mr. Grissom, did you think, 'Wow. This is like the best day of my life.'"

"Yeah. Sure," O'Tool said with a smile.

"I can imagine," the DA said, as he approached the stand a little more. "I mean, the way Shelling and Denalgio treated you so poorly... Do you remember that first day that you met Shelling?"

"Yeah, sure. It was..." O'Tool thought for just a second, "Almost 6 years ago, Jan. 4. 2000 a few weeks after I had run away from home."

"And do you remember the day you met Denalgio?"

O'Tool gave a scoffing laugh. "Of course. It was the first day I was in prison. Three months later, April. 13. 2000."

"And Denalgio and Shelling seemed to have a tight grip on your life, like every second of every day. They used you and they never let go of that grip they had on you."

O'Tool seemed comfortable sense he thought the DA bought his story. "Yeah. Yeah, they did. They told me when to eat, when I had to ... you know... service them... when I could sleep. I had to ask if I could take a piss."

"Wow," the DA said. "They had this hold on your life, yet they left you alone long enough for you to go out, meet someone, talk to him, go to a motel make love and continually meet with him behind their backs."

O'Tool looked nervously at his attorney and took a pause before he answered. "Well... that was... I mean they just thought I wouldn't leave. ..."

The DA cut-off O'Tool's stammering with another question. "And what day was that?"

"What?" O'Tool was still wrestling with the previous question.

"What day did you first meet Mr. Grissom?"

"Umm... it was like a year..." O'Tool looked at his lawyer who gave a stern look back at him. O'Tool swallowed and his eyes moved nervously back and forth. "I mean... I guess it was a few months ago."

"You don't remember the date?"

"Well, no."

"So you meet a man who you testified treated you better than any other person in your life. And you just said it was the best day of your life, but you can't remember the date? You don't even remember exactly how long ago it was?"

"Ummm..."

"What was the name of the bar where you met Mr. Grissom?"

"Like I said, it was some bar off the strip."

"So you don't remember that either," the DA said. "OK, you meet Mr. Grissom and you want a drink, so he flashes his credit card and buys you a drink. Then he invites you to a motel to make love... what was the name of that motel again?"

"Ummm... it was just a cheap motel..."

"Off the strip?" the DA interrupted. "You don't remember that place either? The place where you said Mr. Grissom treated you so well?"

"No! OK, I don't remember the name!" O'Tool said. His emotions and nerves were raw and on the surface.

"All right, Mr. O'Tool," the DA soothed, taking a step back. "Like we were saying, you asked for a drink Mr. Grissom flashed his credit card and bought you a drink. He invited you to a motel and he flashed his credit card and paid for that too. Is that how it went?"

"Yes," O'Tool said with slightly more confidence. "He paid for everything."

"On his credit card?"

"Umm.. yeah."

"So when we look at Mr. Grissom's credit card statements we should be able to ascertain drinks from an off-strip bar charged, along with a motel stay. And it will give the exact date and time of the charges. That won't be difficult at all."

Vladimir moved uncomfortably in his seat. He looked at O'Tool who caught the gaze. "Wait!" O'Tool said. "I forgot. He paid cash. He paid for everything with cash."

The DA stopped but was completely nonplussed by the outburst and moved on to the next question. "Mr. O'Tool, you claimed that Dr. Grissom had a prepaid cellular phone that he used to keep in contact with you."

"Yes, he did."

"And this is the number?" The DA held out the paper for Michael to see.

"Yes, it is."

The DA pulled the paper away, went to the jury box and presented the paper with the phone number to members of the jury. "Could you state for the court what the number is?"

O'Tool rattled off the number with no problem.

"You have that number committed to memory, don't you Mr. O'Tool?" the DA asked.

"Yeah, I do," O'Tool said softly.

"Tell you what. Let's call it, shall we?" The DA pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number, and Michael fidgeted nervously in his seat. Within seconds a phone began to ring in the courtroom and the DA stepped back over to his table and picked up an evidence bag that contained a small, silver cell phone. "Does this look familiar, Mr. O'Tool?"

Michael looked at the phone and remembered the day that Rubin had given him a similar one and told him to keep it on him at all times and to answer it immediately when he called. "Yes."

"This phone was pulled off Rubin Denalgio's dead body, and it had only one set of finger prints on it… Rubin Denalgio's. Not only on the phone itself, but on the key pad and on the SIM card inside the phone. There are no other prints, including Mr. Grissom's prints, on the phone," the DA said approaching O'Tool once more. "Can you explain that to the court, Mr. O'Tool? If this was the phone Mr. Grissom used to call you, why aren't his prints all over it?"

"I don't know.." Michael swallowed nervously as he was losing the cool that he thought he had.

"Isn't it because this is the phone Denalgio used to keep track of you," the DA stood firm. "Dr. Grissom never met you in a bar somewhere, and he never had an affair with you, and he _never _had a prepaid cellular phone that he used to stay in contact with you. _Did he_, Mr. O'Tool?!"

"No!" Michael lost it as his own guilt screamed out in his heart and head, and the image of Gil Grissom begging him for mercy that had haunted him all night returned. He hurriedly spoke to confess his lie. "Nothing about my relationship with Mr. Grissom is true. I never met the guy before, but my lawyer said that he could get me out of this and that he would fix everything."

A murmur rippled through the crowd and Michael took a breath to steady himself. "When I told him that I had doubts about it he told me to just keep my mouth shut, 'cause he had taken everything and all I had to do is say everything that he had told me to say."

Carl Vladimir paled as the two bailiffs stepped towards him. "Why did Mr. Vladimir want you to lie, Mr. O'Tool?" The DA's tone softened a little as Michael's eyes filled with tears.

"He said that it was about time that Mr. Grissom felt what it was like to be publicly humiliated like he had done to Vladimir so many times. But I… I can't lie about it anymore. We weren't making a porno, I did those things to him and he did nothing to deserve any of them. I-I j-just want it to be over!" Michael was consumed with his tears as he covered his face with his hands and his body shook hard with each sob.

The mood was somber as everyone made their way out of the courtroom. With the accusations against counsel, the trial would be most likely be a mistrial, which would mean if the DA's office was not able to broker a deal with O'Tool, Grissom might have to go through another trial.

Once outside, the team could see the young DA being surrounded by members of the press. His voice boomed so all the reporters could hear. "Although our office has much to consider with the accusations against Mr. Vladimir, I am grateful that the proceedings put to rest the horrible lies put forth about Dr. Gilbert Grissom. He is one of our city's finest public servants who is a victim of a horrible crime. When he was kidnapped he put his life on the line to save a member of his team, and for that and for the courage he has shown throughout this trial, he should be lauded as nothing less than a hero."

The press clambered to get a comment about what O'Tool said and the conduct of the the lawyer and judge, so the team used those distractions to get Grissom and Sara away from the courthouse without fanfare.

Once at their cars, Nick approached Greg and put his arm around him. "Way to go on that phone lead, Greggo."

Greg gave a sheepish thank you and caught the sincere expression on Grissom's face.

"You did that, Greg?" Grissom asked.

Greg shrugged. "I just followed the evidence."

Grissom patted him on the back. "Thank you."

"So Grissom," Warrick said. "You heading back home or you need anything?"

"Actually I'm hungry," he said.

"Well, let's get you some grub," Nick said. "If you don't mind some company?"

"Not at all," Grissom replied.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: I call to order this meeting the Writers In The Closet Association. I hope this means I'm getting my steam back ****and picking the pace back up:) BTW, our W.I.T.C.A. branch in Texas is on board and we are growing!!!**

**Acknowledgments: Hmmm...** **There are too many people to speak of in one note, but I guess the biggest one would be my beta JellyBean, who helped me realize that... well let's just say that some things are best left buried in the ground under a boulder mound.  
**

**Warning: To those who are about to read this stop and go no further. There is graphic sex in the following chapter that should be read by no one. As a matter of fact it was considered so graphic that the editors decided to cut it from the text. So please disregard this warning. Thank you.**

**______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-Four

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After leaving the courthouse, Michael O'Tool was taken back to his cell. He sat on his bunk with his head in his hands for some time before composing himself and opening the journal he had been allowed to have. He pulled out the envelope that contained the letter he had written to his mother a few days prior.

He caressed the creases on the plain, white envelope and ran a finger over her name and address. He had been out of contact with her for so long that he didn't even know if she was still alive or not, and if she was he was sure she would tear it up before even opening it. But he would try anyways and later that day he handed it off when the mail was brought around.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The lunch with his friends had been good despite Gil's nervousness at being out in public and around so many people. He watched the other patrons nervously until he would catch himself and quickly look down at his plate while trying to refocus his attention on the conversation. He sat at the back of the table, with his back to the wall and Sara at his side. She quietly held his hand, under the table, and whenever their male waiter would approach she would squeeze his hand reassuringly. They had all enjoyed the conversation and food and when the bill came Gil snatched it up, despite the many protests, and said that it was the least that he could do after all they had done for him and Sara.

After saying their goodbyes in the parking lot they all went their separate ways and Gil and Sara climbed into her car and headed for home. After stepping through the door and closing it Gil took Sara's hand, causing her to face him. He looked deep into her eyes as he reached out and caressed her face. Silently he pulled her close and tenderly kissed her lips.

Sara deepened the kiss as she brought her hands up his arms and caressed his neck and shoulders. She pulled back and looked up at him for a moment and quietly whispered, "I love you." Gil took her hand again and lead her up the stairs and into the bedroom. He quietly helped her out of her clothes and she did the same for him. He claimed her lips again with his own as he ran his hands down her back and gently caressed her body with each motion.

Gil slowly backed her up until they reached the bed and with strong arms he lifted her and helped her scoot back. She lay back across sheets as he covered her body with his own. He went back to kissing her and soon began to trail kisses down her neck. He began to sing to himself between each kiss, making Sara laugh.

"Happy birthday to me…" He kissed her neck. "Happy birthday to me…" He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Happy birthday dear Gil…" He kissed her collar bone. "Happy birthday to me." He looked back up at Sara, his love for her shining in his eyes.

"You look like a monkey…" Sara chimed in causing Gil to laugh.

"Oh, thanks," he grinned and became serious again as he claimed her mouth once more.

Sara pushed on his shoulders causing him to pull back and look at her curiously and she smiled lovingly. "This is my birthday gift to you."

He rolled with her until he lay on his back and she lay on her side with a leg draped over his. Sara propped herself up on her elbow and leaned down to press soft kissed across his chest. She took her time to slowly lick his nipples with the tip of her tongue and she ran gentle fingers through the hair on his chest. She leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, taking his tongue into her mouth and gently sucking on it as she stroked her thumb back and forth over his nipple.

When Sara was done she lifted her head and moved her hand to tease his other nipple. "This is for you today. In celebration of being able to spend another year of my life with you."

She kissed him again then trailed kisses down his firm jaw line. She loved the tickle of his whiskers on her lips and when she stopped at his ear she ran the tip of her tongue around each rim, causing him to shudder. Gil was not used to not being in control. He loved to pleasure Sara and loved to be the one in control of their love making. When Sara looked down into his eyes she recognized his unease and a gentle smile caressed her features. She straddled his waist on all fours and leaned over him.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath at the sight of her full breasts hanging before him. Sara's smile grew when Gil swallowed hard and reached unsteady hands up to caress them. When he was just barely skimming her breasts she lowered herself until they filled his large hands. The feel of his hands on her skin, especially her breasts, had always thrilled her and she felt her body's rhythm change to meet his.

She returned to kissing his body and worshiping every inch. Sara alternated between soft kisses and gentle licking as she made her way down his chest and stomach. When she reached his thighs her lips did not go near his shaft but she wrapped her hand around his semi-erect cock and slowly began to pump it. She kissed and licked her way down to his knees and back, taking extra time to lick the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. The slight bump of each scar never even registered with her as her attention focused on the change of his body. She held his shaft firmly in her hand as she ran her thumb back and forth over the head. Alternating between strokes and circles.

Sara continued this as she leaned down and began pressing kisses over his balls When she took his full sack into her mouth and gently sucked on it he grabbed the sheets and arched his back. Gil hadn't been ready for that and the sensation that it caused almost made him cum right then.

"Shit!" He panted. "Holy shit... Sara... you keep that up... and I'm not gonna last." He looked down at her and the challenging grin that crossed her lips made Gil drop his head back down on the pillow as he groaned loudly. "You're not gonna... let me last... are you?"

"That's all up to you, darling." Sara said as she reached a finger down and gently stroked it across the sensitive skin below his balls, while being careful not to touch his anus. Gil's eyes went wide at the sensation and he involuntarily thrust himself up into her hand.

Sara lowered her mouth to the tip of his shaft and sucked on the head for a moment before taking his full length into her mouth. As she slowly worked her way up and down his shaft, alternating between sucking her way down and licking her way up, she began to hum. All while massaging his balls. It took Gil a long moment before he realized what she was doing. He lifted his head to look at her and she paused for just a moment to grin at him, as he realized she was humming the birthday song. The pause was just enough so that when she started again it threw him over the edge.

Sara had taken him deep into her throat and his eyes rolled back as his head dropped to the pillow and he thrust up into her mouth, shooting his cum down her throat. She swallowed every drop hungrily and stretched out next to him as he slowly came back down from his emotional high. Sara slowly stroked his body with her hands as he calmed and when Gil began to focus again he took her hand and held it over his heart as he reached up with his other hand and brought her head down for a deep, satisfied kiss and tasted himself in her mouth.

"You taste good," Sara chuckled when they broke the kiss.

"I wouldn't know, all I can taste is your love for me."

He rolled them over and continued kissing her as he paid her the same homage that she had paid him. He looked up at her and grinned. "Consider this my birthday wish."

Gil settled himself between her open legs and kissed her belly where the tiny life grew inside before going a little lower and kissing her soft patch of curls. Sara watched him with hungry eyes as he parted her silken folds and breathed deep of her scent. She glistened like so many diamonds in the afternoon sun and he slowly laid down between her legs and flicked his tongue across her exposed clit. Gil carefully pulled back the hood covering the sensitive bundle of nerves and flicked his tongue across it a few more times eliciting a gasp and moan from his lover.

He carefully nipped at her lips with his teeth before running his tongue fully around them. It was Sara's turn to writhe below her beloved and she grabbed the sheets and thrust into Gil's mouth when he took her clit into his mouth and began to gently suck on it. As he listened to her moan and felt her writhe beneath him Gil felt his shaft begin to harden again. With a last few flicks of his tongue Sara went over the edge. Her body clenched as she pulsed below him and he quickly thrust his tongue into her, intensifying her orgasm. When she finally came back down he let her go and began kissing his way up her body. When he reached her breasts she let him pay special attention to her nipples before cupping his head with her hands and pulling him up to kiss him full on the lips.

Their flavors combined in each other's mouths as their tongues danced with each other and Sara reached down to grasp the new erection she felt prodding her and helped to line him up with her once again aroused center. Gil quickly thrust himself deep within her, unable to stop himself. She gasped at the sudden feeling and matched his thrusts as he forced himself to slow them down so they both could enjoy the feeling of not only their own but their partner's building climax. Sara matched his thrusts, raising her hips each time to meet his. As he concentrated on being slow and steady he rested his face in the crook of her neck and she wrapped her arms around his neck and held a hand to the back of his head.

"God, Sara... you feel... so good." He panted with each thrust. He lifted his head to look at her. "You're... where I... belong."

Gil dipped his head and kissed her again. His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, matching the thrusts of his hips. Sara ran her hands up and down his back, lightly raking her finger nails across his flesh. Their thrusts quickened as they felt their climax's coming upon them faster than before. Sara wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him deeper inside until they both reached the edge and felt like they flew on the wings of doves. They both came at the same time and as Gil threw his head back, Sara's name crying from deep within his throat, Sara's whole body clenched around him and the passionate cry that came from her lips was impossible to translate.

When Gil was fully spent he fell into Sara's arms and she hugged him close despite her own exhaustion as she felt him slowly soften inside her. When he recovered a little Gil relieved her of his crushing weight as he rolled them onto their sides. He remained inside her, neither of them in a hurry to have him withdraw, and their legs remained intertwined as they lay in each other's arms. Sara became concerned when Gil's eyes began to tear.

"What's wrong, baby?" She asked as she caressed his cheek.

"That was the second best birthday gift anyone has ever given me." Sara pressed kisses across his mouth and face as tears welled in her own eyes and he returned the loving gesture.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Later that afternoon Sara awoke next to Gil and propped herself up on her elbow as she looked down at his sleeping form. The hot afternoon sun peeked through the curtains and blinds. They lay naked, side by side and her eyes wandered over his body as its only movement was the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

He had gained a little weight back as his appetite had been renewed and she noted how good he looked to her. He lay on his left side, facing her, and Sara had a good view of the scars that were beginning to form on his chest and stomach where the scabs were healing. She gently caressed each one as she ran a finger over them and down to his stomach. He inhaled deeply and she smiled when he reached up and took her hand.

"Good afternoon, doctor." Sara whispered as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Gil moaned into her mouth as he returned the gesture and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Sara laughed as she was dragged onto his chest and he held her close. Sara spoke softly as she placed kisses across his bare chest. "I'm worried about your knee. It got a little more of a workout than Dr. Diller would approve of." They both chuckled. "You need your pain pills?"

Gil became suddenly serious and gently pushed her aside as he sat up and on the edge of the bed. "Sara, I… um… I…" Sara sat up beside him and took his hand as she watched him struggle to find the words he wanted to say. "I can't take those anymore."

"Why not?"

"Sara," Gil looked at her and the shame in his eyes tugged at her heart as she waited for what she knew he was going to say. "I started to abuse them. I started taking more than what I was supposed to. It was an accident at first. I was in a hurry because my knee hurt really bad one day and I hadn't realized that I had taken one too many until I after had, but they made me feel… better. They made the pain go away, but also the shakes and the anxiety. I only did for a week or so."

"What made you stop?"

"I was on the phone, calling Dr. Diller." He shook his head in disgust. "I had my lie all prepared, I was going to tell him that I had dropped some of them down the drain. I knew my shakes would have made it believable. But I got to thinking about what I would be doing with the trust he had shown me, and it made me think of the trust that you and the others have shown me and I don't want to damage that." He looked down at his hands where they rested in in his lap. "You're probably upset with me. I understand..."

"No," Sara smiled. "I thought it looked like some of your pills were missing yesterday when I got you your painkillers, but…" she took his hand and interlaced their fingers. "You've seen that you needed to stop. No one had to catch you and tell you that. I'm proud of you, Gil, and it makes me love you even more. If that's at all possible."

Gil smiled at her and she kissed his lips before pulling back. "Are you in pain?"

"A little. I took the pain pills before we left this morning, just so I could sit in court, but I haven't since and I don't want to."

"Okay," she nodded, not wanting an argument and deciding not to push. "Why don't we get some clothes on and get your leg up, and I'll go get some ice packs."

Sara had helped Gil to the bathroom and then helped him to bed down for the night and get comfortable with his injured knee propped up on extra pillows. By the time she brought him some supper most of the medication had worn off and the intense pain lessened his appetite. Sara set their dishes aside and helped him to lay back down again before settling in beside him.

Sara sat in a chair beside the bed and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a cool cloth and alternated between ice packs and a heating pad on his knee as he fought the shooting pains that ran up and down his leg, and at some points even spread into his hip and groin. He clutched the sheets beneath him until his fingers ached. It hurt her to see him in so much pain and she wished she could take it from him and bare it herself. Knowing she couldn't she stayed by his side throughout the night until he was finally overtaken by exhaustion in the early hours of the morning and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Sara nestled down beside him and rested her head next to his on the pillow. She caressed his cheek, enjoying the feel of his beard, and fell asleep knowing that she would be there when he woke and would continue to nurse him through his struggle and hopefully be able to soothe some of his pain.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil was woken a few hours later by the pain shooting through his leg and when it stopped he relaxed back into the pillow and realized that Sara was cuddled in his arms. He had no idea how long they had been sleeping but he was sure that it wasn't long enough, and he saw the dark circles under her eyes and wondered how much worse he looked.

He reached a hand up and gently ran his fingers through her hair. He marveled at how strong she had been for both of them, despite how hard it must have been on her. To have put up with all the trouble that he had put her through and not call it quits simply amazed him. He remembered everything after waking up in the hospital, and she had stayed with him through it all. Through the mistrust and fear, the nightmares and flashbacks, the seizures and outbursts. Even when he had tried to end it all she had never once hinted a desire to leave him.

As he watched this wonderfully, amazing woman sleep beside him Gil realized how happy he wanted her to be, and how happy that he wanted to make her. In that moment he decided that he wanted to take their relationship to a whole new level and he hoped that she felt the same way.

When Sara woke she looked up to see him smiling down at her. "Good morning, baby, how do you feel?"

"A little better," he lied and leaned over to kiss her.

"Still hurts a lot, huh?" The concern evident in her eyes.

"I can never lie to you, can I?" Gil grinned.

"No." Sara said casually as she sat up and looked at the clock. "You still have an appointment with Dr. Diller this morning. Do you want me to reschedule it?"

"No," Gil sighed as he pushed himself to sit up. "I should keep it."

It was a slow and painful process getting ready. Sara had to help him get on clean boxers and cargo shorts, and dressed his feet for him. As they made their way down the stairs his knee gave out just three steps down. Sara grabbed his arms when he dropped fast and grabbed for the railing. Jim, who had let himself in, heard the crash on the staircase and ran over to see what had happened. When he saw Gil sprawled, face first, half way down the stairs he ran up the steps and helped Sara pull him to his feet.

"Thanks," Gil grunted through clenched teeth, then looked up and realized that it was Jim who had helped him, as he had gone back to living at his house a few days before. Despite his willingness to stay Gil had kindly insisted that he didn't need Jim to 'baby sit' him anymore. "What are you doing here?"

"Sara called me," Jim slung one of Gil's arms around his neck while Sara stepped down in front of them, to catch him if he fell again, and Gil gripped the railing. "She said you weren't doing so well with your knee and that you might need help getting to the doctor's office and back."

Gil thanked him as the three friends made their slow descent down the stairs and they settled him onto the couch. Sara made him some coffee and toast, which he only ate half of, and when she brought him medication he refused the pain pills. Jim watched this curiously but said nothing.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When they got to the hospital Sara got a wheelchair and despite Gil's constant protest she insisted that he sit in it. He complied when Jim positioned himself in front of Gil and Sara wheeled the chair up behind him. Gil fixed a steely glare on the detective and Jim only smiled.

"That may work on Stokes or Sanders, Gil, but not me. Now, are you going to sit down or am I going to sit you down?"

Gil never softened his glare but conceded and sat down in the wheelchair. Jim offered to wheel him into the doctor's office but Sara said that she could manage. Diller greeted them with an enthusiastic smile and was surprised when Gil shook his hand. He examined all of Gil's wounds and took X-rays of his knee and ribs.

Gil and Sara sat in quietly in the office, several minutes later, and waited as Diller looked at the X-rays in his hand. "Well, there is good news and bad news." He looked at the couple. "The bad news, Gil, is that your knee has not gotten any better. In fact, according to these X-rays, the fracture is, in fact, worse than it originally was. You have not been doing what I told you, have you?"

Gil shook his head. "It's been… difficult."

"I understand that, Gil, but unfortunately we're looking at a knee replacement now. I'll set up to meeting with an orthopedic surgeon." Sara gave Gil's hand a reassuring squeeze and Diller continued. "The good news is that the rest of your wounds are looking very good. I'm going to give you a prescription for a medicated massage oil. Sara can rub it over your wounds and it will reduce the appearance of the scars that are going to be inevitable. Have you been taking your medications regularly?"

Gil and Sara looked at each other before he replied. "Yes, but I, uh…" Diller watched and waited as Gil struggled to tell the truth and his embarrassment showed on his face. "I started to… abuse the pain pills." Gil saw Diller raise his eyebrows and hurried to explain. "It was an accident at first… but not after the first time. It only went on for a week or so, and I realized what I was doing and last night I stopped taking the medication completely."

"I see," Diller looked down at his file before setting it aside. "Gil, do you need help with this? Professional help? I can set you up with a counselor if you would like."

"No, thank you, doctor." Gil shook his head. "Sara has helped me get through it and now I just need to deal with the pain."

Diller typed a few things into Gil's file on the computer as Gil let out a sigh of defeat. He wondered if Diller was labeling him as an addict. When the doctor looked back at them Gil had to force himself to look up at the other man.

"All right, Gil, I'm going to leave you on this medication. As long as you feel comfortable. Although you took extra pills, I don't believe your body became addicted to them. But, Gil, it can become easy to become dependent on them. I'm sure Sara will keep an eye on the amount you are taking, and I hope you respect that and not resent it. And I'm putting trust in you, Gil. If you feel you are starting to abuse, you alert me immediately and we will have you go to counseling." Diller smiled warmly at the other man.

Gil returned the doctor's smile. "You have my word, doctor."

They took the prescriptions and set up an appointment to meet with the surgeon the following week. As they drove home Gil couldn't help but to think how this could have possibly been avoided. He never would have gone through any of this if it hadn't been for his job, and he found himself wondering if he would ever be able to work as a CSI again after all that he had been through. It just felt so different to him now.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: And you thought that I'd actually cut some smut;) Hey, does anyone know a more romantic word for balls??? Push my button and let me know:D**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: This W.I.T.C.A. meeting is hereby called to order and I must open by saying that I am a little surprised by all of the writers who seem to be** **hiding in the darkest parts of this closet and refusing to admit that they are there, even though we can hear their heavy breathing. We know you're there *pant pant pant* (Seems to be the only language some of them understand.) Acceptance is the first step in healing.**

**I would like to thank 'The J Word', without her help on this it would have been a lost cause months ago. I owe you my first male child.**

**___________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-Five

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Brass knocked on the layout room doorframe to get Warrick's attention. "Hey, Rick. You doing anything after shift?"

Warrick kept his eyes on the table and was writing information on a evidence bag. "No. I was just going to head home."

Brass took a step inside. "I just got a call from Colten Anderson."

Warrick stopped writing and looked up. "It's about damn time."

"He's been out of town for two weeks, but he said we could come by this morning."

Warrick packed up his evidence. "Give me 15. I'll head to the locker room now and meet you in the garage."

After a quick shower, Warrick stood in front of his locker dressing. He couldn't believe two weeks had passed since he found out information about Reggie Shelling's brother, John, who died in prison. He had hoped the information could lead to finding the last of Grissom's kidnappers and help his mentor put some demons to rest.

Then the trial happened. And a high-profile triple homicide at work. And all the rest of the shit that Vegas dumps on the crime lab.

His thoughts floated to his visit to the prison where John Shelling called home for the past ten years.

_"Prisoner's name?"_

_"John Shelling," Warrick said in his deep voice. "Date of incarceration, Feb. 12, 1997. Date of death, July 14, 2007."_

_The member of the Jasper Correctional Institution staff looked through box labels in search for the right one. "Here we go. Prisoner 478623-JMS — John Shelling. Could I see the court document again, please?"_

_Warrick produced the court-ordered document for the staffer. After Catherine called about what she found out from Grissom about his memories of the Shelling case, it didn't take long for Brass to secure a warrant for John Shelling's belongings. Warrick volunteered to pick up and examine the items._

_The staffer signed and time-stamped the document. "OK. Sign here, and it's all yours."_

_Warrick signed the paper on the clip board and handed it back to the staff before unlatching the manila envelope. "Has anyone else inquired about these items?"_

_"I'm just store and go. That's something to ask the warden's office. I have a table in the office out there you are welcome to use, but we need to leave the storage area."_

_Warrick nodded and let the staffer lead him out of the room. Using a table in the corner of the office, Warrick took a quick inventory of the items — a watch with a dead battery; a gold necklace with a cross; three sheets of art paper with various shapes and figures drawn upon it; and a journal with about 3/4 filled with handwriting._

_Warrick took the journal and leafed through the pages quickly. He recognized several biblical quotes based on forgiveness. Warrick also recognized the names of psychological and spiritual books that Shelling excerpted word-for-word to create his own personal self-help text. But before putting the book back into the envelope to take back to the lab, Warrick did one more thumb through. Among the last few pages was something scrawled vertically on the outer margin of the page. An address to a location in Sumerlin, Nevada._

_Before leaving the prison, Warrick went to the warden's office to inquiry about Shelling's visitors. "I asked the guard at the storage facility if anyone else has been interested in Shellings' belongings..."_

_The warden grabbed a file folder in his in-box. "Two days ago I got a letter giving me notice that someone would be petitioning for Shelling's body for burial. Someone who was not a member of his family or of his estate."_

_The warden turned the file around so Warrick could read the letter. While he skimmed the text, his eyes fixed on the address of the petitioner -- 3420 Waxfield Drive, Sumerlin, Nevada. That was the exact address scrawled upon a margin on Shelling's journal._

_"Warden may I have a copy of this letter please?"_

_After Warrick found the journal, he and Catherine visited Gil and Sara to fill them in on the new leads in his case. Grissom listened intently to everything they said as he looked through the journal that John Shelling had written. When he closed the journal and shut his eyes his colleagues stopped talking. They all waited silently as he processed all that they had said and images flashed in his mind again._

Warrick shook his head at recalling how guilty he felt for leaving their friend in such a bothered state. What he didn't know is when he and Catherine left, Gil picked up his journal and wrote until his hand hurt and the book was full. Despite his aching hand he did feel much better when he was done.

----------------------------------------------

Colten Anderson was a volunteer at the prison and a very difficult man to contact. Jim and Warrick had been to his home and called his number several times with no answer. He taught literacy, English as a second language and creative writing. While he wasn't a naive man, he felt called to work at the prison. While he sported neither a smile nor a frown, he answered the knock at his modest home in Sumerlin with a pleasant demeanor.

"Gentlemen?"

On his doorstep stood Brass and Warrick. They too sported neither a smile nor a frown. But Jim removed his sunglasses before speaking. "Colten Anderson?

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Jim Brass from the Las Vegas Police Department and this is Warrick Brown from the crime lab. You're a hard man to find. We wanted to ask you a few questions about your work at Jasper Correctional."

Anderson inspected Brass' badge and Warrick's credentials and then looked at the men in their eyes. His action prompted Warrick to remove his sunglasses as well. That seemed to be good enough for Anderson. "OK. Come in gentlemen. I'm sorry that you have not been able to contact me, my father lives in Mesquite and he's been ill for the past two weeks."

Once inside no one sat down. Just didn't feel right. "Sorry to hear that." Warrick said sincerely.

"May I ask why you two gentlemen are here?"

"We're investigating a crime in which John Shelling's name came up," Brass said. "You've recently petitioned to take charge of his remains?"

"That's right," Anderson said moving toward the kitchen. "Can I get either of you a cold drink or some coffee?"

"No thank you," Warrick said. "Mr. Anderson, how well did you know Mr. Shelling?"

"I didn't know him well at all," Anderson said as he doctored his coffee. "He was a student in my tutoring session. His interests were in creative writing. Depending on his mood, I would suggest different books for him to check out."

"Do you know why he was in prison?"

"Mr. Brown, isn't it?" Anderson received a nod then continued. "Mr. Brown, if I knew anything personal about those prisoners I don't think I could volunteer there. But I try to believe in the concept of rehabilitation, which is why I work there. And I understand with what you two men witness, that probably sounds like complete and utter bullshit. But for now, that is how I stand."

Brass looked at Anderson with skepticism as he watched the man take a few more sips of coffee. "So, do you think Shelling could have been rehabilitated?"

Anderson let out a small laugh. He knew he was being challenged. But instead of fighting or being self-righteous, Anderson just spoke the truth. "Fortunately, I don't make those decisions, sir. But if you are asking if I think John Shelling could be rehabilitated after what he did, I really don't know."

Anderson turned away to go to another part of his house, but Warrick was quick to stop him with the timber of his voice. "Wait a minute. You knew what he did? I thought you said you didn't know the background of the inmates."

Anderson came back to the kitchen with a letter in his hands. "I did learn something about Shelling but after his death. He sent me a letter by mail. It was postmarked several weeks before his death. But it took a while to get here. Here. You take it."

Warrick and Jim looked at the letter. What they saw was a confession. What they saw was affirmation of what Grissom thought about the Shelling family -- that John Shelling killed his daughters to save them from a terrible fate Reggie planned.

_The letter spoke about how Reggie Shelling was involved in domestic human trafficking, as a seller. John admitted he was heavy into drugs and deep in debt. He needed a way out, and Reggie gave him an option, which he chronicled in the letter. John knew his brother had no love for his nieces, but John was so high, he couldn't see it till it was too late. That was probably why Reggie could convince John to let his brother take the girls and sell them off. Reggie told John the money could fuel John's habit and give him cash to take care of things._

_"That ex wife of yours and her little whores are ruining you! Let me handle them. I'll get good money for them, John. Especially Courtney. That little piece of ass could tap $1,000 a night easy. And all it takes is a little discipline -- both physical and chemical."_

_John was high again and couldn't decide, but Reggie kept pushing._

_"I'm trying to help you. Trying to protect you! They will destroy you!"_

_John was so confused. And it is so hard to say no to his brother._

_According to the letter, he agreed. But when John was alone in the house with his daughters, he couldn't believe what he agreed to. So in his drug-crazed mind, he killed them to save them from his brother. The last line of John's letter summarized the incarcerated man's tortured soul._

_"Reggie was the devil disguised as my brother. But I was a monster to agree with him. And I was a demon when I killed my babies. I deserve all that comes my way. The putrid stench of my sins will stay with me forever. I only hope the good Lord and my angels will forgive me. For I never will."_

Warrick placed the letter in an evidence envelope. "Mr. Anderson. We would like to keep this for evidence."

"You do what you have to," Anderson said followed by a sip of his coffee. "Has anyone retrieved his body?"

"No."

"I asked our pastor if I could ask donations to give John a proper cremation," Anderson said. "In the letter John said his daughters were buried and the only place he would want to be is at their side. But he told me he wasn't worthy, even in death to be with them. So he asked he be cremated and his remains be scattered among the trees that shade their graves."

The men fell silent until Anderson asked, "You gentlemen need anything else?"

"No. Thank you." And Brass and Warrick left.

The two colleagues made one last stop before returning to the lab that day. When Sara answered the door her smile seemed a little forced. She was pleasant and a little more cordial than normal.

"Everything okay, Sara?" Jim asked as they stepped inside.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling too good today. Morning sickness and all that."

"Ah, is there anything that we can do?"

"No," her smile became a little more warm and a little less guarded. "It's just a baby thing."

"Yeah, I remember when my wife Marcy was pregnant. That woman would eat any and everything all day but come morning... I would have all I could do not to be next to her puking my guts out."

Sara clutched her stomach with one hand and grabbed Jim's arm with the other. "I'm gonna stop you right there. I'd rather not think about it if you don't mind."

Jim chuckled when he realized what she meant. "Sorry, Sara. Is Gil around?"

"Yeah, he's upstairs. What's going on?"

"We have a new piece of evidence that I think he'd like to see." Warrick said and showed her the letter from John Shelling.

She lead them upstairs and into the master bedroom where Gil lay on the bed with his injured leg propped up on pillows. He was reading the latest forensic journal and peered over his reading glasses when they entered the room. Sara sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and Warrick pulled up the chair while Jim stood at the foot of the bed silently watching. Gil looked between his friends and then to Warrick when he spoke.

"We just got back from Colten Anderson's house."

"I was beginning to wonder if he fell off the map." Gil said with raised eyebrows.

"Helping his sick father in Mesquite." Jim interjected and Gil nodded.

"He gave us this letter that was sent to him by John Shelling before his death." Warrick continued as he passed the letter to his mentor.

Gil quietly read through the letter as the others watched him. They tried to gauge his reaction but his face remained still. When he was finished he took off his glasses and laid them and the letter on his lap. He looked out the window for a few minutes as thoughts swam in his head. He thought back to the night that he had first entered John Shelling's house and found his three daughters. He thought of what would have happened to them had John let Reggie do with them as he pleased. Thoughts of Michael O'Tool sharing his testimony of being owned by Reggie Shelling and Rubin Denalgio soon joined the others. All of those images mixed with memories of what happened to him during his own time in captivity.

Sara took his hand when she saw his eyes begin to mist and Warrick and Jim exchanged bothered looks. "Gil?" Sara quietly called to him and he slowly shook his head.

"They had no way out," Gil's choked voice was barely more than a whisper as he looked back down at the letter. He looked up at Sara as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "They had no one to save them."

He sighed as he handed the letter back to Warrick and informed them that he was tired. They said their goodbyes and Sara walked them to the door.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dr. Diller recommended Gil receive care from an orthopedic surgeon from Desert Palm. Dr. Dennis Hardgrove had shared the same laid back demeanor as Diller and although Gil was tense around the new man Hardgrove never gave it a second thought. He had been friendly and after learning what their careers were he didn't try to simplify. Gil appreciated that and found it easier to accept the technical terms than that of a layman.

Insurance accepted the surgery quickly and it was scheduled for the following week. Gil had been warned to stay off his feet as much as possible as there was swelling due to his activity and Hardgrove said that it would interfere with the surgery. So he had to spend a lot of time laying in their bed watching TV or reading.

It became increasingly difficult for Sara to spend her days with Gil and not say anything. The closer it came to the day of his surgery the more agitated he became. She knew that it weighed heavily on his mind and although he didn't say anything to lead her to think so she also knew that he was worried. Even though she did feel bad for him it did nothing to alleviate the extra stress that he caused her on a daily basis.

His knee hurt him but the mental pain that his inactivity caused seemed to be worse. Not being able to busy himself gave Gil more time to think and his thoughts often drifted to his time in capture. On many occasions Sara would walk into the bedroom and find him staring into space with the same look of pure hatred in his eyes.

She knew that the anger was building in him again and when she offered him the new journal that she bought for him, as his original one was full, he looked at it and tossed it onto the nightstand. He found it almost pleasurable to dwell on his thoughts of revenge again and he didn't want to make them go away so quickly this time.

His disregard for Sara's thoughtfulness had taken her to the brink and pissed her off. At first she felt like crying and immediately left the room, unbeknownst to the man on the bed. Once downstairs she quickly chastised herself for being so sensitive. She decided that she had every right to be pissed off. She had been waiting on him hand and foot for almost a week. She had cooked and cleaned and done everything but held him while he peed.

To top it all off I'm carrying his child. She thought as she pulled the box of ice cream out of the freezer. As she slammed the frozen box down on the counter she began mumbling as her thoughts took voice. "He doesn't have the decency to even say thank you!" She slammed the glass bowl down on the counter and slammed the drawer shut after retrieving a spoon. "What does he think I am, his fucking maid?!"

The next few days were cold at the townhouse. Neither of the couple showed affection for one another. Sara was coming to realization of the fact that she was carrying life inside of her. All the years of her never wanting kids and now she was pregnant. Not that she was having second thoughts but it added to her anxiety. The hormones only increased and what she needed from Gil she was getting the exact opposite. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever be capable again of giving her what she needed from him.

One afternoon while Sara was in the kitchen making sandwiches emotions surfaced for both lovers. Gil had had more than enough of lying in bed and gingerly made his way downstairs to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water Sara turned around to see who it was. She almost couldn't believe at first that he was downstairs but her mood changed again.

"You're supposed to be off your feet, Gil." She said tersely as she grabbed the bottle from his hand.

"I'm thirsty, it's fine." Gil clenched his jaw as he grabbed the bottle back.

"Do you ever want to walk again, or are you happy with me waiting on you hand and foot?" Sara sneered as she went back to the sandwiches, mangling them in the process. "I mean, what do you want from me, Gil? Do you realize how fucking tired I am? Do you?" Gil was silent as he stared at her and processed what she was saying. His lack of response only made her more angry. "You know, there are times when you just make me want to scream! You know that!" She looked down at the plate of mangled sandwiches in her hand. "Look at this! I can't even make a sandwich because I'm so… goddamn… pissed!"

"Sara. Come on. I never said I was hungry," Gil said. They were both angry. They were both tired. They were both in pain.

"Oh, just shut the hell up, Gilbert!"

Gil looked as if he'd been slapped across the face. His eyes grew wide and his breathing became ragged as visions of Shelling standing in front of him, holding the bottle of water, flashed through his memory. His eyes began to tear as his body flinched with the feeling of the roach clips being ripped from his skin.

She instantly recognized the look in his eyes and took a step forward. "Gil?" When she put her hand on his arm he flinched and pushed it away.

He stumbled and staggered and worked hard not to fall on the floor. But he did, despite his efforts, and once down Sara had to think fast. What if he had another outburst? What if he hurt her? What if he hurt the baby? The question bombarded her at a thousand miles an hour.

She quickly decided and went to his side, kneeling on the floor. He looked up at her with the familiar look of terror and confusion in his eyes. As reality began to creep back in Gil began to violently pound his thigh. Sara grabbed his wrist. "Gil, stop it!"

"I can't! It won't fucking go away!" He propped his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands as he began to gently rock back and forth. His body flinched again when Sara put her hand on his shoulder. "We can't talk or have a fucking argument without these goddamn flashbacks coming up! And look what it's doing to you. You shouldn't have to put up with this and you can't keep babysitting me! If you knew how worried I am about you… and all I can think about is myself and these fucking memories!" He glanced up at her. "I'm sorry, Sara, I don't mean to be a burden. Really, I don't. I want to be the best husband and father that I can be."

With Sara's help he got back onto his feet and moved back into the kitchen. They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes. Sara's feelings still brewed. She wanted to be forgiving, but she was too tired. And for some reason, stewing in her frustration and anger felt better than turning the other cheek.

Gil, on the other hand, started to focus on Sara. Maybe if he began to focus on her needs, he could somehow make up for his feelings of insignificance in the relationship. She was the best thing in his life, and she deserved to be treated well, even if it meant bothering his abused knee. So he began to busy himself.

Sara stepped up close behind him. "What are you doing?" She demanded.

"I'm just making you a little lunch." Gil said as he took two slices of bread from the bag.

"No! Dammit, Gil, you're supposed to be off your feet!"

"It'll just take a minute." He soothed as he turned and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, Sara, just let me do this for you and I'll go back upstairs."

Sara sat down at the table as she watched him return to his task. She was pissed that he wasn't listening but decided not to say anything and let him do what he wanted. She knew that he wouldn't listen to her anyway and that pissed her off all the more.

When he was done Gil set the plate down in front of her. He knew she was angry, but considering all her stress and circumstances, she had every right to be. "Can I get you anything else, dear?"

She opened the bread and saw that he used fresh tomatoes and greens and had even added that special sauce of his that she liked. His kindness still did nothing to ease her bad mood and she turned a cold shoulder to him.

"Can I get you anything else, honey? Something to drink?"

"No, this is fine. Now go upstairs before I call Warrick." She took a bite of the sandwich, deciding that it was enough thanks for him, and Gil turned away dejectedly and made his way back upstairs.

Hours past. Gil stayed in the bedroom and Sara puttered around the house. She flitted from room to room. She would start an activity like laundry and then stop to go to the kitchen. She would wash a couple of dishes and then stop to start a crossword puzzle.

By mid afternoon, she sat on the couch and caressed her stomach. She sat for some two hours, just stroking her belly and watching old 1980s sitcoms on a local channel. Although her eyes were on the television screen, her mind was far from processing the stale plotlines. Sometimes thoughts made her frown, other times made her roll her eyes, and a final one made her just stop and sit up.

She sat up and pondered. "Huh," she said in a slow, reserved tone.

Before the next episode of "Night Court" started, she turned off the television and went to the bedroom. She stood in the doorway to see Gil laying on the bed and watching the ball game with little enthusiasm on his face.

"Did you say that you wanted to marry me?"

"What?" Gil looked at her as his brow furrowed.

"At lunch time. You said that you wanted to be the best husband you could be."

That had been at noon and when Gil looked at the clock it was 5:30 p.m. He shut off the television and set the remote on the nightstand. "Yeah… I do." Sara went to the bed and sat down next to him. He gingerly sat up and scooted next to her on the bed. "I love you, Sara… I always have. I know you're mad at me… and I don't want to ask you and have you say, 'Yes' or 'No' for the wrong reason."

Sara sighed as she took his hand and spoke quietly. "I'm not mad at you… it's just these damn hormones. I know that it's not your fault that you're laid up… and if it were up to you you'd be out going to work and living your life. Not stuck in this bed waiting to be cut open. If there is one thing that I have learned from this job is that life's too short to stay angry with the ones you love." She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips then pulled back enough to look him in the eye. "If the invitation is still open… my answer is yes."

Gil caressed her face as he pulled her closer for a deeper connection. As they kissed each other passionately he reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small velvet box. When he backed off from the kiss he held the box up between them. He singlehandedly opened the black case and revealed the diamond ring inside.

"I'm afraid I can't do this properly… but… Sara Sidle, would you be my wife?"

Tears filled her eyes as she looked from the clear, precious stone and into his soft, blue eyes. "Yes, Gil Grissom," she struggled to speak passed the lump in her throat. "I'll be your wife."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The proposal had changed Sara's mood. She still became easily agitated but when she looked at the precious stone that held much more value than anything financial it lifted her spirits and her mood would change. Even if it didn't last long. The day before Gil's scheduled surgery he was especially moody himself and Sara had to remind herself almost every fifteen minutes not to get angry and to be understanding. She found herself separating from him frequently by leaving the room so that she wouldn't say anything and make it worse. Then she would go back downstairs and proceed in beating the couch cushion as Stacey had suggested.

That evening she had just about had her fill and couldn't take anymore. When the phone rang and it was Warrick asking if they wanted company she nearly screamed at him. Twenty minutes later he and Jim were ringing the door bell. Sara welcomed them in and they looked at each other warily when they noticed the agitated look on her face.

"How you doing?" Warrick asked with a warm smile.

"I'm okay," she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry for being so abrupt on the phone. It's just been a bad day."

"Ah, the surgery?"

"Yeah, he's just... really worried... and that's made us both moody."

"Where is Captain Cricket?" Jim asked and Sara smiled as she lead them into the living room.

"He became very tired of being upstairs all day and insisted on at least laying on the couch."

Gil looked up from the television when they entered the room. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Thought maybe you could use some company." Warrick held his friendly smile.

"And a distraction." Jim's grin made Gil laugh.

"What'd you have in mind?"

"I was thinking poker. Take all of your money before the doctors do."

"Sounds good, I could use a good distraction."

"Well, if you boys are going to keep your eyes on Doctor Feelgood here than I am going to the store." Sara leaned over the back of the couch and gave her fiance a quick kiss on the lips.

"What are you going to the store for?" Gil asked.

"I need some ice cream... and a few other things." She smiled when Gil chuckled and said her goodbyes.

The evening proved to be a good distraction. They had played several hands and talked about everything but the surgery and Gil's case. It made his friends feel good to hear him laugh and although he may have denied it Gil felt good, too.

"I need to get up for a minute," he announced and Jim and Warrick pulled out the card table so he could get off the couch. After using the bathroom he stopped by the kitchen. "You guys want anything?" He called.

When they both placed an order, Jim's being a sixteen inch pizza with all the toppings, Gil laughed and pulled some drinks from the fridge and a bag of chips from the cupboard. He looked at the clock and wondered where Sara was, as she had been gone almost an hour, and his cell rang. He picked his phone up off the counter and read the ID. _'Sidle'_ He smiled as he flipped open the phone and thought how it would soon be changed to Grissom.

"Hey, honey, get all of your shopping done?" The familiar masculine voice that replied to his question froze Gil's heart and turned his blood to ice water in his veins.

_"Who's my good boy?"_ Reggie Shelling asked.

_________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: There, that's what I call tough love. You come out those dark corners and join the rest of us! **

**Hmmm... Shelling seems to get some sweet kick out using other people's phones. Sick bastard! So... he had Greg the first time... UH OH!!!!!  
**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: W.I.T.C.A. members arise!!!! Come to life my minions!!!! You know... I probably shouldn't call you 'my minions' if we want more of you to join. *pant pant pant* Still talking shadow language. It's a learning process;)**

**A big thank you to 'The J Word' A.K.A. JellyBeanChiChi;) She has been awesome and a little part of her is in this story:)**

**______________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-Six

______________________________________________________________________

_"Are you alone, Gilbert?"_ Shelling asked.

"No." Gil replied.

_"WHAT?!"_ Shelling screamed.

"N-No, sir."

_"That's better,"_ Shelling said with a sinister tone. _"Now, if your friends aren't gone in five minutes, Sara will lose something. Do you understand me, Gilbert?"_

"Y-Yes, sir," Grissom replied, his face white and his voice a bit shattered.

_"Do not disconnect this call, Gilbert. I will be listening."_

"Yes, sir."

Gil held the phone down as he limped back into the living room. Jim and Warrick looked up from their cards. "Where are the drinks, you need a hand?" Jim asked.

He didn't want to lie to his friends and knew that he needed their help but for Sara's sake he was on his own. "Sara's... uhh... on her way home... and she'd like some alone time before I have to go into surgery tomorrow."

"Gil, we just started the hand." Jim argued. "I don't think Sara will mind if we finish."

"Come on, Jim," Warrick encouraged as he gathered the cards. "I know what it's like when the lady wants to be alone with her man."

"I-I'll t-take care of everything..." Gil stopped himself and took a deep breath to calm. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Warrick said with a shrug and Gil walked them to the door. "Come on, Jim, I'll buy you a drink before I go home to my woman."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the two men got to Jim's Dodge, the detective looked in his rear view mirror to see Gil talking into his cell phone as he closed the door. "Wants to be alone my ass, did you see that look in his eyes?"

"Yeah," Warrick replied. "Something's got him spooked."

"Or someone," Jim said.

Without a word, Jim and Warrick seemed to silently agree to follow their friend if he left the house. Jim drove around the block and the two waited together in the parked car to see if Grissom left the townhouse.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Once again, the cell phone became the lifeline for a loved one. But this time, the stakes were higher and there was more than one life at stake. Grissom knew he had to do exactly what Shelling said, but he knew even if he was to die for Sara and their unborn child, that would not guarantee their own safety. He knew he couldn't fight Shelling alone. He didn't have the opportunity to leave Jim a note asking him to look after Sara, so he hoped Jim and Warrick noticed the distress in his eyes and voice and would pick up on it before it was too late.

"They're gone, sir." Gil said as he shut the door and leaned back against it.

_"That's a good boy, Gilbert, do exactly as you're told and your slut won't be harmed... too much."_

"If you touch her-" Gil began before he could stop himself.

_"If I touch her what!!! You'll kill me? Is that what you were going to say, Gilbert?!"_

"No, sir... I'm sorry, sir." Gil hung his head as despair began to creep into his heart.

_"You're fucking right you're sorry!!! You better watch your fucking mouth, you understand, you piece of garbage!"_ Reggie shouted, causing Gil to cringe. _"Or I'll make her suck my cock before you do!" _There was a long silence and as Gil was beginning to think that they had become disconnected Shelling calmly spoke again. _"Who owns your fuck-hole?"_

Gil swallowed hard and it was audible in the receiver. "You do, sir."

_"I do what, Gilbert?"_

Gil took a few deep breaths as the feelings of humiliation and degradation sunk in again. "You... own my fuck-hole... sir."

_"Good boy, now get your ass in the car and drive."_

__________________________________________________________________________________

Shelling directed Gil to get on the road and drive east. Gil did as he was told and Reggie was silent on the line except for the sound of his breathing and an occasional moan of pleasure. It threw off Gil's concentration and made him wonder what Shelling was doing, or possibly doing to his beloved while he was helpless to save her. As he hit the car packed highway Gil noticed Jim's Dodge several cars behind. The Dodge's presence offered solace to Grissom, until he heard Shelling speak abruptly.

_"Get rid of him, Gilbert. Do you understand me?"_

"No, sir."

_"Your friend, Gilbert. Your friend is following you. Get rid of the Dodge right now, or Sara will pay for your insolence."_ Grissom couldn't understand how Shelling could know not only that he was being followed, but that it was Jim's Dodge confused him even more. _"You're not moving, Gilbert."_ Shelling's voice reflected his impatience._ "Is this a joke to you?"_

"No, sir," Grissom said, fear evident in his voice. "I-I'm stuck in traffic, sir."

_"Really? Well, Gilbert, I don't know how much longer I can stand not cutting that pert, left nipple off your slut's breast."_

"It's the evening rush hour, sir." Gil almost begged.

_"Be a shame if your baby would never have a chance to suckle from that,"_ Shelling continued, his evil voice cut through Gil like a knife.

"Yes... sir."

_"Lose him! Lose him now, Gilbert!"_ Shellling growled.

"I understand, sir."

Although Gil's heart raced as he thought about Sara with that madman, a part of his mind clicked. Shelling suspected... No, he thought, he knows about Jim's car. Yet, he doesn't know about the traffic jam. What was going on?

Instead of getting further ahead, Grissom used the jam to get people behind him to move forward, until he was in the lane to the left of Jim's Dodge and only two car lengths ahead.

---------------------------------------------------

Jim and Warrick watched as Grissom allowed traffic to get in front of him. And then they noticed how Grissom seemed to put his car in park. "What is he doing?" Warrick wondered out loud.

Before Jim could confirm his own confusion, he noticed the rapid movement of the brake lights. Over and over three quick flashes, three more prolonged flashes and then three quick flashes.

"SOS," Jim said. "He's using morse code." With that Jim, used his own headlights to let his friend know he understood the SOS.

---------------------------------------------------

A small smile bubbled up as Gil saw Jim's headlights. "Sir, the traffic is slowly moving ahead. Where should I go next, sir?"

_"You will drive ten miles northeast then turn north at the four corners. After fourteen miles you will come to an old, abandoned gas station. There is a cell phone tied off the overhang. Get it. There is one number in its phone book you are to call that number from that cell phone, not your own, and you will wait for instructions. You are to bring both phones with you. Do you understand me, Gilbert?!"_

"Yes, sir."

_"No phones, no slut."_

Gil cringed at the use of the word in reference to Sara. "It's stopped again, sir." Gil informed as he came to a stop behind a red Volvo.

Knowing where he should go, Gil quickly formulated what needed to be said in code and hoped his ex-Marine friend would be able to interpret perhaps the most important message Gil had ever sent. Jim and Warrick saw the brake lights flash once again. Warrick listened silently and intently as Jim spoke.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Cover blown. Go back. Will go NE 10 miles N 14 miles. Out."

Jim used his flashers to relay, "Copy," as some of the traffic in front of Gil traveled forward. Still locked in traffic, Jim couldn't understand how his cover was blown. Was Shelling in the traffic jam? If so, did he notice the code? "Where the hell..." Before Jim could voice a question, a car rear-ended him, causing Jim's car to crash into the one in front of him.

"JESUS!" Warrick shouted, as he tried to deflate his airbag. "JIM! You OK man?"

"GOD DAMMIT! Where is he?!"

Warrick quickly got out of the car in time to see Gil speed away in front of them. He changed his direction to go northeast at the next major intersection. "Fuck this!" Warrick swore as he got out of the car and reached for his cell. "Someone's got to follow him. We're not going to let him just go off and die."

"Who you calling?" Jim said as he got out of the car to inspect the damage

"Nick."

"Tell him to get his ass out there with Greg or Catherine!" Jim called a number himself. "Ecklie. We need to have access to Grissom's cell phone records. Shelling's got him on another goose chase."

__________________________________________________________________________________

"The traffic is moving again, sir."

Before he could tell Shelling that Jim is no longer following him, the man on the other line spoke, _"Good boy, Gilbert. You did as you were told."_ Gil said nothing, but something in his mind clicked. _"Since you passed that critical test, I'm going to break this lifeline and see if you can establish another. You are approximately 24 miles from your next destination, Gilbert. If I do not hear from you on the cell phone left for you in 20 minutes, Sara will pay for your failing grade."_

The line went dead. Gil gunned his engine as fast as possible and nervously ran a hand through his hand. He'd had no idea where he was headed. But he did know 10 miles northeast and 14 miles north was the middle of nowhere in the desert. And Gil had to find a cell phone within that nowhere or Sara would die.

He wove in and out of traffic and as the sun continued to sink behind him people began to turn on their headlights. He cut off an Accord as he swerved out around the red Volvo in front of him and almost side swiped an SUV. There was no time to hesitate and even less time to stop and that is what he told himself as he pushed eighty miles an hour through the thirty-five-mile-an-hour stretch of road. Within minutes he reached the four corners that Shelling had referred to.

The tires of his Mercedes screeched as he slowed the car to fifty-five and rounded the corner. As he came to the end of the last fourteen miles of the stretch the abandoned gas station came into view. He used a trick Catherine used many years ago while on a case and made sure he overshot the location and burned rubber to produce skid marks when he turned around. Gil then made sure his tires peeled out in the sand where he came to a stop.

He jumped out of the car and ignored the pain in his leg as he ran up to the porch connected to the front of the building. Hanging from the roof was the promised cell phone but it was too high for him to reach. Looking around quickly he found an old chair and grabbed it. Without giving it a thought he climbed onto the chair and grabbed the phone. As he climbed down the chair broke but he didn't give it a second thought that he could have hurt himself.

He quickly wiped the sweat dripping into his eye with a shaking hand as he turned on the phone and accessed its phone book. He heard two rings and then Shelling's voice.

_"Nineteen minutes, Gilbert. You cut the time short. You're such an obedient little bitch."_ Gil fought the submissive feelings that Shelling's voice caused as he continued to berate his subject. _"I tell you, Gilbert, you sure know how to pick out a nice piece of ass. This long, leggy brunette is something hot. That ass... those breasts... that sweet, hot..."_

"Please, sir, don't..."

_"Don't what... bitch? Don't hurt her?"_ Gil could almost see the sadistic smile curling his lips. _"Beg me not too, faggot, I want to hear you beg for it."_

Gil took a deep breath. He was about to tell Shelling to shove it up his ass but then he thought of Sara and what the sick bastard said that he would do to her if he didn't cooperate. Anxiety began to well in him as the feelings that he experienced during his capture under Shelling all resurfaced.

"Please, sir... I'm begging you... please don't hurt Sara, sir. I'll do anything you say, sir." He fought back the defeat he felt and the tears that accompanied it.

For a long moment there was nothing but silence until Gil heard Shelling's sadistic laugh. _"Oh, of course you'll do anything I say, that's why you're my bitch. But I do love to hear you beg, Gilbert, and I think when you get here you'll beg to suck my cock before the pain is even close to being over."_ Gil shuddered at the thought but wisely remained silent as Shelling gave him his next directions. As he vigilantly listened to the instructions, Gil looked down at his feet. He wished he had bread crumbs, but all that surrounded him were sand and pebbles. _"When you hang up, do not make any calls on either phone. You will be out of cell phone range about 10 yards from where you stand. Do you understand, Gilbert?"_

"Yes, sir."

_"You have 20 minutes, starting now!"_

Sometimes you have to make due with what you've got. Before he ran back to his car, Gil drew three big letters with his feet.

__________________________________________________________________________________

It was seventeen minutes later when Gil pulled into the driveway of an old farmhouse. The nearest neighbor he passed was about a half mile away. He seemed to be in the middle of nowhere alone. He quickly exited his car and could faintly hear the strings of the Vivaldi concierto that had been the theme to his torturer's delight. He shuddered but walked up to the front door. Gil had already been terrorized by this man. He knew he was about to walk through hell once again. But this time, Gil swore to fight every step of the way.

Just as he was about to knock, the door swung wide open. Gil's heart froze when he saw Shelling and the look of pure evil in his eyes. Before he could say or do anything Shelling grabbed his shirt, pulled him through the door, and threw him across the room. Gil caught himself but when he turned around to counter attack his whole body froze, stunned as Shelling shot him with a taser. He fell onto his side as the hot, white pain coursed through his body. It took Gil a moment to realize the deafening sound in his ear was his own scream.

As Gil desperately tried to pull the taser prods off his body, Shelling released another jolt stunning him again. Reggie relished the feeling once more of controlling the man he owned. He thought of giving his bitch one more shock, but he knew if he wanted to play, three times would be too much. Finally, Shelling dropped the used taser and pulled the prods off Gil's shirt himself. Then he roughly flipped Gil onto his stomach and tightly cuffed his hands behind his back

"Don't act up, bitch," Shelling said, his mouth grotesquely close to Gil's ear. "Think what a couple of jolts will do to your slut and that bastard baby of yours." Gil still felt numb from the electrocution and from Shelling's cold words. But he had to continue. He could not stop fighting. "You remember my rules, don't you, Gilbert?" Shelling said as he pulled the older man to his feet.

Gil kept his eyes downcast as he fought to control his building rage as he spoke through clenched teeth. "Yes, sir."

Shelling laughed and grabbed Gil's arm. "What's the matter? Upset, like the bitch you are?"

Gil shot him an angry glance before he could control himself. A look of rage clouded Shelling's eyes but it quickly changed to one more evil. "The knee still hurt, Gilbert?" Shelling held Gil's arm as he reached down and removed the knee brace. Gil didn't have time to gauge the coming action and with a roundhouse kick Reggie swept Gil's injured knee out from under him. Gil screamed in agony as he hit the hardwood floor and writhed when Shelling slammed his foot down on Gil's hurting joint.

Gil struggled to breath and focus beyond the unyielding pain as Shelling pulled him to his feet again. He pushed Gil face first over an antique table that stood against the wall. Images of the last time he'd been forced over a table flashed in Gil's memory and he remembered the pain of his inner flesh tearing as he remembered being raped, first by Shelling then by his two cohorts. Breathing became difficult as he struggled to remain calm and maintain some control. His efforts made Shelling laugh as he held Gil down with a strong hand between his shoulders and ran his other hand over Gil's ass, pressing against the seam of his pants.

Gil struggled against his captor with what little leverage he could gain and it became more intense when Shelling grabbed Gil's crotch in a painful grip. Gil clenched his teeth and fought the pain until Shelling used the heel of his hand and jammed Gil's cock against the edge of the table. The older man cried out in pain though he tried to fight it as his tormentor laughed and pulled him up to stand on shaky legs.

"Now, let the fun begin."

__________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Oh, boy!!! What more is there to say!!!**

**Just out of curiosity. I'm wondering if people are losing interest in this story as the reviews have dropped off quite a bit. I'd just kind of like to know and I DO love reading your reviews, they spur me on to write more:)  
**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Thank you to all for the awesome reviews. The answers that you all gave me match my own guesses, for the most part. Some of the comments I had to the story itself were almost shocking. I knew, deep done, that this story would attract sickos and perverts but come on... 'Get on with Grissom being raped'???????? OK, OK, yes... that did make me laugh:D Hang on... *pant pant pant* Still working in the shadow dwellers:D And don't think that a certain someone from down under can get away from her W.I.T.C.A. initiation.  
**

**I can never thank JellyBeanChiChi enough for all of the help that she has given to me. You rock and I am still JEALOUS!!!!!!!!**

**__________________________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-Seven

__________________________________________________________________________________

Nick took speeding to an excess as he drove down the seemingly abandoned stretch of road. Greg sat in the passenger's seat with his cell to his ear, maintaining an open line with Warrick who was waiting with Jim on the tow truck and police cruisers. Both men were worried for their boss but Greg was more so. He had seen what Shelling could do first hand and had a good idea of what his mentor was walking into.

Nick pulled his SUV to a fast stop, making Greg grab the dashboard. "What the hell, man?!" Greg yelled.

"Skid marks." Nick nodded towards the road and Greg looked at what his friend saw.

The two men climbed out of the SUV and inspected the black marks on the tarmac. As they widened their search they found the skid marks that Gil had produced when he pulled his car to a stop. Greg called to Nick when he found their boss's footprints in the loose dirt and they followed them to the porch of the abandoned fuel station. They hoped to find a note or something but were dejected when they found nothing. Nick took the phone from Greg as the younger man continued his search.

"He was here, Warrick," Nick said into the phone. "But I can't see anything about where he went." Nick noticed if he walk further north there was crackling and he would almost lose the call. The cell range was precarious here.

_"Well, maybe he just went north,"_ Warrick said.

Nick looked on the horizon. About 75 yards ahead the main drag was intercepted by another county road. "I don't know Warrick," Nick said sadly, "He could have gone east or west from here."

"WAIT A SEC!" Greg called. "Over here!"

Nick ran to Greg to see what he had found. The two of them stared down into the dirt to read the letters G-P-S. Nick relayed the finding to Warrick.

-----------------------------------

"What?" Warrick replied. Jim looked at him, so Warrick repeated the information. "Grissom wrote the letters G-P-S in the ground."

Jim looked dumbfounded then quickly ran to his car, which was about to be towed from the scene. Warrick ran after him and tried to talk to Nick on the phone, but the static became fierce then the call ended. Jim got to the driver of the tow truck and flashed his badge for him to stop. "BRING IT DOWN!" He yelled to the driver, who lowered vehicle for Jim to inspect.

"Rick, help me look for a GPS. Shelling must have put one on my car," Jim said and he looked under the vehicle.

"We find that GPS, we might be able to take it to the lab and see where the signal came from," Warrick said as he looked too.

"Let's hope so. Hopefully, Shelling is still tracking us."

Though out of contact with their colleagues Nick and Greg decided to search the area one last time before giving up and going back to the lab.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Shelling dragged Gil up the stairs. Gil's knee felt like it was on fire as sharp pains shot through his leg. He tried to keep his footing but while Shelling held the chain that connected the hand cuffs he pulled up on the links so that his captive remained in a strappado position as he struggled to crawl up the stairs. When he slowed too much for his captor's liking, Shelling pulled up on his cuffs, causing excess strain on Gil's shoulders. A number of times he muffled screams of pain, but most times his cries and grunts at the roughness escaped his mouth and made Shelling smile with satisfaction.

They reached the top of the stairs and Shelling continued to drag him down the hall. When Gil fell on his face Shelling gave his arms a good pull, almost pulling them up over his head. Gil panted for breath as he felt muscles and tendons in his shoulders being torn and tried, unsuccessfully, not to make a noise from the added pain. Shelling pulled him back onto his feet and let him walk upright to the end of the hall where he opened the door on the very end and pushed Gil inside.

Gil's knees gave out and he hit the floor hard, landing with most of his weight on his injured left knee. His scream became choked and he gasped for air as a fresh wave of pain threw him into agony all over again where he lay face down on the floor. Shelling laughed as he pulled Gil up to his knees and grabbed his hair yanking it painfully so he looked in the direction Shelling desired. What Gil saw was Sara laying on the bed, spread eagle, with her wrists and ankles cuffed to the posts.

He struggled against Shelling to get to her but his captor held him firm. "You want your slut, Gilbert? Well she's my slut now. I own you, I own your property."

"She's not... property." Gil struggled to speak through his pain as he looked Shelling in the eye.

Shelling punched him twice in the side of the face. "You don't fucking look at me! And you don't fucking talk without my permission!" The blows dazed Gil and he tried to clear his thoughts. "You seem to have forgotten, haven't you, faggot?" Shelling walked over to the dresser and retrieved a a small bow of roach clips from one of the drawers before going back to stand in front of Gil. "Stick out your tongue." He ordered as he held one up and Gil clamped his jaws shut. "You want to be disobedient... than you'll be punished for it."

He pushed Gil back onto the floor and pulled off his shoes before unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. "Get your fucking hands off me!" Gil roared as panic set in with the memories of the last time his pants had been pulled off of him like this.

Shelling drove his fist into Gil's knee and the older man writhed in pain but eventually forced himself to still. Shelling pulled off Gil's pants and boxers then pulled the bowie knife from the sheath in the back of his pants. He cut away Gil's shirt and tossed his tattered clothes aside. He straddled Gil's legs as he sat on them and took a clip from the bowl. He opened the small clamp and scraped its teeth over the skin on Gil's stomach.

"Where should this go? Huh, bitch, where should I put this one?"

He released the clip, letting it bite into the skin covering Gil's battered ribs. The investigator clenched his teeth as Shelling squeezed the clamp, causing blood to ooze from the wound, and Gil's breaths came out in grunts. Shelling took another clip from the bowl and let its teeth graze his victim's skin before clamping it onto his stomach. He took a third and grazed across Gil's sensitive nipple. When he was done he sat back and surveyed his work and the small, silver roach clips that were scattered over Gil's chest and stomach. "This is fun, Gilbert, where else can we put the rest of these?" Gil shook his head as he fought the tears that welled in his eyes and the sobs that involuntarily wracked his body as he was being consumed by his pain. Shelling's eyes fell on his exposed genitals. In all its futility Gil tried not to to make a sound as Shelling gently wrapped his hand around Gil's shaft and stroked it a few times before he began attaching the clips along his exposed penis and scrotum.

Sara lay on the bed and fought her tears as Gil's screams penetrated her very soul. Shelling grabbed Gil's jaw and forced his mouth open. "Stick out your fucking tongue!" He ordered and Gil refused as he was more prepared for this and wanted to fight it although he knew in his heart that he was going to lose. "Stick out you _fucking _tongue... or I'll start putting them on your slut."

The thought of his beloved being in pain tore at his heart and Gil reluctantly did as he was told as he tried to push aside the the pain that he felt and knew was coming and the memory of having one on his tongue before. "All the way!" Shelling ordered and Gil obeyed. Shelling put the clip on the tip of Gil's tongue and held it out as he added four more around it.

Shelling rolled Gil over with a push of his foot and when he finally lay on his front side the clips were driven deeper into his flesh. Gil writhed in agony as he tried to roll back over but Shelling stopped him when he put his foot on Gil's back and held him down. When he was done he rolled Gil back over and dragged him over to the wall where Sara would have the best view and propped him up so that his head and shoulders were up against the wall but the rest of his body was sprawled out before him. Shelling walked over to the dresser and returned with a rope and stick that may have been a foot long. He talked as he crouched beside Gil, being careful not to block Sara's view, and wrapped the short length of rope around Gil's injured knee before slipping the small loops on each end of the rope over each end of the stick.

"You know, Gilbert, I used to think that my father was a mean bastard." He twisted the stick and the rope tightened on Gil's knee, causing a sharp intake of breath from the sufferer. "But I was wrong," Another twist brought more pain. "He wasn't mean," Another, rough twist and Gil forced himself not to scream but instead it came out in grunts. "He made me who I am." A final hard twist and Gil screamed in agony and as Shelling forced it a little more to a time Gil writhed beneath him.

It took all she had in her not to so much as shed a tear as Sara watched Gil suffer at the hands of that monster. She felt his pain every time he screamed and she would have willingly suffered the roach clips if it meant he didn't have to. She found herself recalling what had happened earlier that evening to bring them to this point.

When Sara was rear-ended while pulling out of the empty parking lot that day she never would have guessed it would have been Reggie Shelling. When she got out to inspect the damage and he removed his sunglasses her heart froze. He had been quick to hit her on the head and catch her before she hit the ground.

Her thoughts were brought back to the present when Shelling stood. "You want to look at me, Gilbert? Then you can watch as I fuck your slut." Gil struggled against his restraints and unsuccessfully tried to push himself off the floor. He screamed incoherently through the roach as he fought the dizziness and nausea that began to overwhelm him and Shelling stopped halfway to the bed. "What's the matter, Gilbert, jealous?" Gil stopped when his tormentor looked back at him. "Do you want to take her place?"

Gil looked at Sara and could not understand the lack of emotion in her features. She passively watched, as if she were watching a movie that held little interest for her. He focused his attention back Shelling when he sharply slapped Grissom across the face.

"I fucking asked you a question!" Shelling straddled Gil's waist and squatted down to look him in the eye. "Do you want to take her place?" Gil quickly cast his eyes down and nodded his head. He reminded himself, once again, that he had to obey this psycho for Sara's sake. "You just can't get enough of it can you?"

Shelling took the roach clips from Gil's tongue and Gil noted the coppery taste in his mouth. He stood and pulled a ring gag from his back pocket, holding it out for his captive to see. "You remember this, Gilbert?"

Gil looked up just long enough to see the device and looked down again. But his eyes stole at quick look at Sara. He noticed her hand was making slight gestures. Then Shelling turned and showed the ring to Sara. "You know what I'm going to do with this?"

"I do," she said in an even, non-committal voice.

"She speaks," Shelling said with a chuckle. "This bitch hasn't uttered a fucking word since we've been together. I thought you picked a stupid slut, Gilbert."

As Shelling pulled his captive to his feet Gil rammed into his chest, knocking him backwards. But Shelling quickly caught himself and side stepped as he threw Gil face first onto the floor. In his restraints Gil made a weak and futile attempt to get away from him as Shelling began kicking him over and over again. He felt both his healing and formerly undamaged ribs crack under his torturers steel-toed shoes. Shelling made himself stop. He wanted to play, killing was for later. He took a few deep, calming breaths as he stepped back and shoved the ring in Sara's face.

"You know what I'm fucking going to do with this!" he shouted.

"YES!" Sara shouted back. "I FUCKING KNOW!"

Shelling was taken aback for a second. Sara knew Shelling wanted to feed off her fear and the terror of watching him abuse Gil. But she wasn't about to help Shelling. She wished she could strangle him with her bare hands, but Sara could do nothing while tied to the bed. But she could deflate Shelling. Let him know his little game was meaningless to her. She had to play dirty even if it meant denying the gut-wrenching pain she felt.

"YOU GOING TO FUCKING DO IT AGAIN OR WHAT?!" Sara yelled.

Grissom couldn't believe what she was saying, but then he noticed her hand gesturing again. She was signing, "I love you."_ Keep going, Sara. Keep going,_ Gil thought.

"I. JUST. WANT TO GET. THE FUCK. OUT. OF HERE." Sara shouted

Shelling noticed nothing as his blood boiled. He only heard her act of defiance so he slapped Sara hard across the face. "YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOU SLUT?!" He pulled Gil up off the floor. "She doesn't get the rules, Gilbert." Shelling said as he positioned Gil on his knees and forced his mouth open with the steel ring, which he roughly attached to his head. "You haven't taught your slut very well! And just for that you'll get her punishment." Shelling dropped his pants and looked at Sara who looked back at him with no emotion. Shelling stroked his erection but lost a glimmer of his confidence. "You fucking watch me, bitch. You fucking watch him suck my cock."

Sara said nothing and gave no glimmer of reaction, even though it felt as if her heart shattered into a million pieces. It took everything in Sara's power not to utter a word, and when she noticed Shelling no longer looked at her, she closed her eyes. Gil knew he had to do this. If Shelling did this to him, he wouldn't be doing it to Sara. And he knew Jim would find him. But Grissom also knew while Shelling would beat him for days on end, once he humiliated and tortured him sexually, Shelling would have no use for Gil. If Shelling ejaculated, he would kill Gil, and then torture and kill Sara too. Gil couldn't let that happen.

Shelling grabbed Gil's hair in a strong grip with both hands and rammed his erection through the ring and deep into his throat. Gil forced himself not to gag and he began to shake violently as memories of the past merged with the moment and he realized his worst fear was coming to life. It was happening all over again and his fiance was being forced to watch. As his head was violently jerked back and forth over Shelling's erection he stole a quick look at Sara and saw her eyes closed but now both hands signed "I love you." Gil closed his eyes as her gesture offered a small amount of solace from this living nightmare.

Shelling let out a primal moan as he roughly fucked Gil's mouth. At first he looked at Sara, but quickly he looked down at Gil. His evil smile returned in full force. "Good boy... Gilbert," he grunted as he thrust into Gil's mouth. Shelling took one hand out of Gil's hair and fondled himself while he relaxed the grip of the other. With no one pushing him down, Gil pushed every vile feeling and sensation to the back of his mind. Although handcuffed behind his back, he used every ounce of his strength and quickly thrust his head up and towards Shelling's chest. The action took Shelling by surprise, and the metal ring cut into his erection. He wasn't able to react quickly enough to catch himself and he fell flat on his back while Gil pushed up with his good leg and, without warning, slammed his body down so that his shoulder pinned Shelling's groin to the floor.

As Shelling screamed and writhed in pain, Grissom violently shook his head hoping the ring gag would give. But instead Shelling recovered, grabbed the lamp off the nightstand and smashed it against the side of Grissom's face. The force of the blow ripped the leather strap on one side of the metal ring and apparatus flew off Gil's face as he fell to the floor hard. Shelling limped over to Gil and pummeled him with blow after blow of his steel-toed shoes. Again, Sara worked hard to say nothing. She knew if she said anything it could make things worse for Gil and herself. Shelling paced around Gil's unconscious form. There was no point beating him if he could not feel it. Shelling was furious. This was not what he had planned. This was not supposed to happen. He groin ached and he felt dizzy. He was not going to pass out in this room. He staggered out of the room and slammed the door shut.

Sara stared down at Gil and was surprised when she saw his eyes slowly open. She opened her mouth, but Grissom shushed her and gingerly rose on his knees. Trying to put most of his weight on his good leg. It was not an easy task, but he leaned against the bed and pressed a kiss on Sara's outstretched arm. She smiled but gestured again with her hand. Grissom focused. She signed a word -- A-N-K-L-E. Grissom looked at her ankle and noticed her charm bracelet. A charm near her heel resembled a handcuff key. Sara was surprised Shelling didn't notice it when he strapped her to the bed. But she had noticed he was flustered by her silence.

_"I'm going to hurt him, bitch. I'm going to abuse him, make him suffer, make him pay, make him scream for mercy, and you're going to watch it." Sara said nothing and reacted in no way. This only served to confuse Shelling and it caused him to lose focus._

Maybe that is why he never even bothered to look at her ankle bracelet. She put the handcuff key there as a joke, a kind of good luck charm. At that moment, Gil saw it as very fortunate. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gil blindly groped for the key and ripped it off the anklet. He mentally noted when they got out of there, he would buy her a new one. When they get out. Not if. He placed the key in his palm and went to the head of the bed. Rising his aching arms as best as possible, he put the key in reach of Sara's hand. She worked at his cuffs and they heard the successful pop when the cuffs were removed.

As Gil felt the cuff on his left wrist unlock and fall away the door swung open and Shelling stepped into the room. There was no time to think and Gil pushed aside the feelings of pain in his body as he lunged towards their captor.

TBC

______________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: Wow, Shelling has his bitch back??? That's rough. Hate me, love me, not sure what to think of me??? Click that button down there so I don't have to beg again. Oh... you like to hear me beg??? Well... *pant pant pant paaaaannnnntttt* I assume it is the shadow people who are the ones that like to hear me pant... er, beg:D**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: Hey, everyone, no joking around on this one. I wanted to have this up last night but the last few days have not gone well and I'm not too sure when I'll be able to post again. I'm hoping that it won't be longer than a week, two at the most, as I don't want to make you guys wait too long but there are times when family must come first and that is what this coming weekend will be like. I hope you guys won't be too mad but that's the way it is sometimes.**

**A big thank you to the JellyBean who took time out of her busy schedule to help me with this. She has been a great support, especially when I realized that Reggie Shelling is evil and that is how he should be portrayed. The idea was NOT hers, she just supported me in my decision. The carnage you are about to read is all mine.**

**WARNING: This chapter is VERY GRAPHIC! Both sexually and otherwise. Please use caution when you read this and remember it's about staying true to the characters within the story.  
**

**____________________________________________________________________________**

Face the Music- Thirty-Eight

______________________________________________________________________________________

Catherine, Warrick and Brass stood in the A/V room with Archie who had just spent the last three hours going through the maze of bogus signals that Shelling had set up to throw off any attempts at tracking him using the GPS chip on Jim's' car. Nick and Greg walked into the A/V lab just as the young man received the final location on his computer and marked the general location on a grid.

"Good job, Arch," Catherine said as she patted him on the shoulder and took the paper he handed her.

"No one can escape Archie Johnson." The young man said and Catherine showed a small smile as she headed for the door but stopped and looked at him when he called her name. "I hope you find him... and if there's anything more that I can do..."

"I'll let you know, Archie, thanks." Catherine's smile broadened a little and they all left the room.

They all went to the conference room and gathered around the table. Each of them took a file and began searching through it for a relevant address to the one found on the tracking device. But nothing stood out in terms of the location presented.

Catherine grabbed the visitor logs that Warrick had gained from the prison and began searching through the list. "Jim, that volunteer who wanted to give John Shelling a burial? What about him?"

"No. He lives out in Sumerlin. Opposite direction."

Catherine looked at John Shelling's visitor logs again and this time a name stood out -- Joe Mantillo. He visited Shelling once. She looked at notes from Grissom's case prior to her handling and noticed he was interviewed at his farmhouse 35 miles north of Vegas. He said he was a prison visitor who just happened to visit John Shelling. For some reason, Catherine just didn't buy that. She went to to the lab across the corridor and logged onto the computer to access public records and found a marriage license for Mantillo. He was married 45 years ago to Marie Henderson. Catherine's heart raced. Henderson was the maiden name of John and Reggie Shelling's mother.

She found the address of Joe and Marie's farmhouse in seconds and raced back to the A/V lab. "He's here," she said putting a piece of paper on the table. "She must have been a relative of their mother."

They wasted no time as they all jumped up from the table and raced to the parking lot. Brass pulled out his cell and called Ecklie as Catherine called dispatch and ordered back up.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Still in pain and expecting his prisoner to still be on the floor Shelling was caught off guard when Gil tackled him against the wall. As they struggled, each man trying to gain the upper hand, Sara struggled on her own to twist her hand and get the key she was still holding into the lock of one of her own cuffs. As the two men struggled and fell back against the bed the lock clicked and the cuff fell away from her wrist.

She accidentally dropped the key as she reached out and grabbed Shelling's hair in a painful grip where he stood behind Gil, holding him in a headlock. Reggie screamed as Sara ripped a handful of hair from his scalp. At the same time Gil elbowed him in the ribs. Reggie went into a rage and brought his foot up and slammed it down on Gil's bad knee, causing Gil to scream in pain. But Gil's cries were quickly cut off when Shelling tightened his grip around the older man's neck.

Shelling stood and twisted away from Sara before she could reach for him again. Gil couldn't gain his footing as Shelling pushed him to his knees and he struggled for air. As Shelling used one hand to strangle Gil, he used the other to grab Gil's arm and twist it up behind his back. Gil tried to pry Shelling's hand wrapped around his throat, but Shelling's rage refreshed his strength and his eyes darkened as he felt the life being drained from the man in his hold.

"STOP IT!!!! PLEASE, YOU'RE KILLING HIM!!!!!!!!" Sara screamed as she watched Gil's face turn from red to blue.

Images of his mother screaming those exact words as he killed his father flashed in his mind and Shelling released his victim and let him drop to the floor. Gil gasped for air and immediately went into a coughing fit. He tried to push himself up but Shelling kicked him in the back. "Stay down!" he yelled.

Shelling bent over and cuffed Gil's wrists again but this time they were so tight that they cut into his flesh. He grabbed the chain connecting them and dragged Gil away from the bed and back over to the other side of the room. Gil cried out in pain as strain was put on his shoulders as they felt like they were being torn from their sockets and he felt some of the roach clips being torn from his flesh.

"You stay there!" Shelling ordered as he dropped Gil face down on the floor. "I need to teach your slut a lesson."

Reggie turned back to the bed and the look in his eyes sent a shiver through Sara's body. Gil tried to lift his head but it was barely enough to see Shelling move towards his beloved. He felt everything growing dark and he heard the sound of skin against skin as Shelling slapped Sara hard across the face. Before he lifted his hand a second time Gil was overwhelmed by the darkness and passed out on the floor. As Shelling straddled her waist Sara heard sirens wailing in the distance and as she listened to them draw closer Reggie hit her again and again and again.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

The cruisers and department issue SUV's skidded to a stop outside of the old farmhouse. All of the officers jumped from their vehicles and assumed ready positions behind them with weapons raised and ready to shoot. Jim took the megaphone that one of the officers handed him and held the microphone to his lips. "Reggie Shelling! Come out of the house! We have the place surrounded and there's no way you're getting out of here!"

A long moment of silence passed before a gunshot sounded in the air and one of the officers was thrown back onto the ground. All hell broke loose as the officers began firing on the house and more shots were fired from inside the aged structure. With the bullets flying over-head and dreadfully close the minute that the shoot out lasted passed like an hour. Jim noticed there was no more gunfire coming from inside the house and ordered them to cease fire.

The officers cautiously came out from behind their vehicles and advanced on the house. Jim followed the two officers in the lead and was not surprised that Warrick was close behind him. They broke through the front door and rushed into the house, quickly fanning out to check all of the rooms. They cleared the downstairs but both Jim and Warrick had a gut feeling what they were looking for was not on the ground level and they cautiously ran up the stairs.

They cleared the first room and then the second. They came to the third and Jim kicked in the door. The two men rushed inside to find Raoul talking hurriedly into his cell phone. He turned and raised his weapon. Warrick charged him and grabbed the handgun before driving his fist into Raoul's nose. Jim jumped forward and grabbed the man's arms, making him drop the phone on the floor, and quickly cuffed him.

They had searched the entire house and then the barn but there were no signs of Gil or Sara. What they did find were two teenage girls chained in the basement and not far from them were the rotting, mangled bodies of an elderly couple. It was obvious that the girls had been badly abused and the paramedics took great care and gentle caution as they strapped them to the gurneys and put them in the ambulances. Jim informed the paramedics that Raoul could wait and he saw a senior EMT who looked like he wanted to shoot the man himself.

After the ambulances left Jim and Warrick went to the kitchen where Raoul was sitting, cuffed to a chair. Jim told the officers to leave and they obeyed. Warrick stood to the side and silently glared at the prisoner as Jim stepped around behind him. "Where's Reggie Shelling?"

"Fuck you."

Nick walked into the room and held up an evidence bag containing the cell phone Raoul had dropped. "Found this in the bedroom where you said you found him."

"Yeah," Warrick confirmed. "He was using it when we busted the door down."

"It says the last call he made was to... Reg," Nick looked at the man in the chair. "That Reggie Shelling?"

Raoul remained silent and when Jim threatened him with the charges he was facing he still remained silent. Jim looked up at his younger colleagues. "Get the hell outta here." Both men were reluctant but when they saw the look in the ex-marine's eyes they knew what he was about to do would not be pretty and that he was protecting them from prosecution. When the two investigators left the kitchen Jim grabbed Raoul's throat from behind in a tight hold and cut off his air as he lowered his mouth next to the other man's ear.

"Don't fuck with me, Raoul," he growled. "Your pal Reg has two of my friends and I will do whatever it takes to get them back. Even if it means killing a piece of shit like you." He let go of Raoul's throat and quickly covered his mouth as he began to punch the helpless man in the kidneys.

----------------------------------------------------------------

When Jim came running from the kitchen, only throwing a quick order to one of the officers to take charge of Raoul, Warrick was immediately on his heels. "What have you got, man?!"

"An address!" Jim replied and the two men were out the door.

Jim and Warrick were in the car speeding down the road before Nick, Catherine and Greg climbed into one of the Denalis.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sara fought hard not to give any reaction as Shelling slapped her across the face again and again. Her heart sank as she heard the sirens go in an opposite direction and quickly fade into the distance. Her lack of response confused Shelling and made him even more angry. He climbed off of her and clenched his fists at his side. "You fucking cunt!" He screamed as he drove his fist into her stomach. She cried out in pain and begged him to stop as he raised his fist again. Her cry of pain roused Gil and he groaned as he fluttered in and out of consciousness.

He stepped back as his cell phone rang and pulled it from his pants pocket. He flipped it open and held it to his ear. "What do you fuckin' want, Raoul?!" Sara lay back and listened as she could only hear Shelling's side of the conversation. "What the hell are you talking about?... I told you that when the cops showed up you were supposed to play it like the place was fucking yours!... Fire fight??? I never said to shoot at them!... What about the 'fresh meat'?... Raoul?... Raoul!!!"

When the call was cut Shelling went into a fit of rage and threw his phone against the wall. As the phone shattered into a dozen pieces Reggie turned his eyes to Sara. He took two steps forward, towering over her and when her eyes met his Sara realized what was about to come and that there was nothing that she could do to stop it. The rage she saw in Reggie's eyes as he pulled out his knife and began cutting off her clothes made her panic and squirm.

Sara tried not to speak but could barely muffle her cries and whimpers which intensified when Reggie roughly grabbed one her breasts and squeezed it hard in his strong hand. When he saw Sara eye the knife in his other hand Reggie's mouth twisted in an evil grin and he scraped the sharp edge of the blade over her now bare belly.

"What do you say we cut you open and see what that little bastard in you looks like?" Sara shook her head, desperate to do anything else. "No?" He lowered his face as he grabbed her hair and yanked her head up. "That's not…" Reggie paused as her hair caught his eye. When he looked at her brown locks he remembered what Raoul told him in the strip club. "Raoul said a brunette bitch killed Rubin. That was you wasn't it, you fucking cunt?!"

"Yes it was!" Sara sneered, unable to control herself. "And I'd do it again!"

Instantly Sara wished she had kept her mouth shut and not said a word. Reggie's eyes darkened and he stuck the knife into the wall over the head of the bed, making Sara flinch. He removed the shackles from her ankles and roughly flipped her over onto her stomach. Sara's shoulders and wrists were strained as her arms were forcefully crossed. Before she could fight back her legs were pushed underneath her so that she was sitting on her knees.

Shelling didn't bother to cut away Sara's panties as he climbed onto the bed behind her and settled between her parted legs. He roughly pushed her underwear down the backs of her thighs and slapped her hard on the ass. She yelped and he grabbed her hair and yanked her head back as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"You're gonna pay for what you did to my best friend, you slut," he growled.

Shelling got back up onto his knees and didn't give Sara a chance to prepare herself as he quickly lined his erect cock with her asshole and entered her with one, hard thrust. She screamed out at the sudden, intense pain and bucked forward in an attempt to escape him. He grabbed her hips in a painful grip as he began pounding in and out of her.

Sara's screams roused Gil back into consciousness and when he looked up at the bed he saw Shelling's hips moving back and forth as he roughly thrust in and out of Sara. Gil struggled to turn himself onto his side. "SHELLING! GET OFF HER!" He screamed in desperation.

Shelling stopped and spun around to see Gil struggling on the floor. He pulled out of Sara and jumped off the bed. He stormed over to where Gil laid on the floor and rolled him over with a kick to the older man's ribs. He straddled Gil's chest and grabbed his hair, yanking his head up off the floor. He slapped Gil hard across the face a few times and painfully shook his head back and forth. Gil felt the back of his head hit the floor with each shake and cried in pain through his gritted teeth.

"Please, sir, don't hurt her..."

"YOU OR HER?"

The look Gil saw in Shelling's flushed face was one of primal rage. The veins in his neck pulsed wildly as he towered over Gil and gave him an ultimatum that deserved only one, clear answer.

"Me."

Reggie grunted as he dragged the older man over to the bed and pushed him face first over the low foot board. It was high enough so that the tips of Gil's toes barely touched the floor. Shelling stepped back to the side of the bed and pulled Sara back over onto her back.

For a brief moment Sara met Gil's eyes and the pain that passed between them was almost unbearable. Shelling stepped behind Gil and grabbed his ass. When he looked at Sara and saw her look away he spoke sharply to her. "You watch me, you miserable fucking slut! You watch him take my cock up his ass or I'll do worse things to him than you could ever imagine."

Sara met Gil's eyes and held them steady. Shelling thrust his erection deep inside of Gil as he grabbed his captive's hair and yanked his head back. With one hand holding Gil's hair Shelling's other hand gripped Gil's hip to brace himself.

The pain was intense and everything that Gil had garnered -- his progress achieved in therapy, with his friends, with Sara -- he felt it all slipping away. Sara watched as Gil's face contorted in pain and heard his cries with each of Shelling's thrusts. The pain in his ribs was unbearable and the pain caused by the roach clips that were now embedded in his chest and stomach made him nauseous. But worst of all was the humiliation he felt at being raped in front of Sara. He caught a glimpse of her tear filled eyes and felt desperate to stop it.

Grissom's face was pushed into the mattress between Sara's feet. But he turned his head so he could be heard. "John killed himself because of you!"

Shelling stopped in mid-thrust. "You don't know what you're fucking talking about!" He screamed as he thrust into Gil two more times, being much more rough..

"He said he let himself be his cell mate's bitch... because he deserved it!" Gil screamed past the pain.

While still holding his hair Shelling pulled him back off the bed. Gil could barely stand on his own and Shelling held him up with a painful, tight grip on his arm as he glared into Gil's pain-dulled eyes.

"He realized that you wanted to sell them as sex slaves... and did the only thing that he thought he could... to save them from you." Gil sneered.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Shelling screamed as he grabbed one of the roach clips on Gil's side and ripped it off. Gil screamed as he was thrown to his back on the floor.

He fought the pain as Shelling towered over him. "You had no love... for your brother's daughters."

"They were fucking whores!" He reached down and ripped off another roach clip, this time from Gil's chest.

"Not... to your... brother," Gil struggled to reply.

"You don't know what you're fucking talking about! He knew they were whores!" This time Shelling ripped a roach clip off of Gil's penis and he screamed as he writhed beneath him and tried to roll away.

"Your brother was heavy... into drugs. You tried to... convince John to give you his girls... to sell them." Gil continued to ignore the building rage he saw in Shelling's features and didn't take notice of Sara, who was shaking her head trying to make him stop. "What did you do?... Offer the profits from the sale... to fuel your little brother's... drug habit."

"Shut up, Gilbert! You don't fucking know what you're talking about!"

But Grissom did know. Shelling could recall that night he talked to his brother.

"That ex wife of yours and her little whores are ruining you! Let me handle them. I'll get good money for them, John. Especially Courtney. That little piece of ass could tap $1,000 a night easy. And all it takes is a little discipline -- both physical and chemical." John was high again but still couldn't decide, but Reggie kept pushing. "I'm trying to help you. Trying to protect you! They will destroy you!"

John was so confused. And it was so hard to say no to his brother. "OK, Reggie."

Reggie went into a blind fury and began ripping the roach clips off of Gil's body. But he stopped when Gil struggled to not give him a reaction. Shelling straddled Gil's waist and began punching him in the face. Gil was helpless beneath the stronger man as he continued to pummel him and could only turn away so that Shelling's blows caught him on the side of his head and not directly in his face. When he finally stopped the left side of Gil's face looked like something from a butcher's shop. Bones were shattered and blood flowed into his hair and dripped to the floor. Shelling panted as he felt his rage begin to dissipate and he felt more in control.

"He agreed," Grissom choked out with Reggie Shelling still on his chest, "But when he is was... alone... he couldn't believe... what he agreed to. In his... drug-crazed mind... he killed them... to save them... from... you."

"John never said that!" Shelling growled.

"No... He wrote it down... in a letter... we found after his... death. He said... it was you... who drove him to drugs. ... You who drove him to... murder," Gil struggled to stay conscious as he felt it all begin to slip away again. "I helped... p-put him in jail... but you p-pushed him... to kill those g-girls. You're the reason... he lost control. He needed to stop you... and did the unforgivable. He wanted to die in p-prison... And you, Reggie... you, not me... not those girls... gave him that death wish."

"Is that how you see it?" Sheeling sneered, the fury in his eyes punctuated his total lack of control.

Shelling let out a primal scream as he grabbed Gil's face in his hands and began pushing the tips of his thumbs into the helpless man's eyes. Sara's eyes widened in horror as she watched her love writhe and scream beneath the madman whose eyes had become glazed as if he was possessed by something more evil than any mortal man. As all the pain in his body combined to reach a new height Gil felt helpless to do anything. Until he felt Shelling's hand come too close to his mouth and Gil sunk his teeth into the meaty heel of his torturer's right hand.

Shelling screamed in pain and as he yanked his hand away Gil ripped off a large chunk of his flesh and spit it out of his mouth. Reggie fell back on the floor, cradling his injured hand. "FUCK! FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!"

Caught in the intensity of the moment neither of the three heard the wail of the sirens outside or the noise downstairs as two men burst through the front door. Shelling jumped to his feet and grabbed his bowie knife from its sheath as he advanced on Gil. He'd had enough of this game and it was time to end it. Gratification or not. It was all for John.

As he passed the bedroom door it flew open with a powerful kick and Jim charged inside. "Las Vegas Police!" But Shelling immediately grabbed Brass' wrist and twisted it back over his shoulder as he slammed Jim back against the wall. The force made Jim drop his gun and Shelling kicked the heavy wooden door as Warrick stepped through it and his hands were slammed between the door and door jam. Warrick screamed in pain as he felt the bones in his hand break and he stumbled backwards.

As Warrick stumbled back and fell against the banister, holding his hand in pain, Nick, Greg and Catherine ran through the front door and up the stairs to meet him. They had been just moments behind the two of them. As the three investigators reached the top of the stairs Warrick immediately and frantically nodded them toward the bedroom door before they could stop.

"Brass is in there with Shelling!"

Although Jim recovered and twisted out of Shelling's grasp, the two men struggled back and forth as they grappled with each other. Reggie thrust his bowie knife towards Jim's chest and the detective caught his wrist and pushed back against him.

As Gil lay on the cusp of passing out again he barely felt the new wave of pain emanating from his knee when Jim and Shelling tripped over him. The pain he felt brought him back to the edge of consciousness, but the only thought that registered was that Jim was there and he would take care of Sara now.

Reggie and Jim tripped over Gil's legs and both men fell hard on their sides and rolled across the floor. Reggie was on top of the detective, pushing the knife down towards his chest, but as Jim rolled them over one more time Nick and Greg burst through the door with their weapons raised.

Within a nanosecond, they heard Jim scream in pain.

Nick and Greg took in the sight before them. Grissom, a bloody and mangled mess on the floor. Sara abused, naked and physically and emotionally shaken with her wrists still shackled to the bed. And Jim and Shelling stilled. Nick rushed to the detective, pushed Shelling off of Brass and checked for the madman's pulse as Jim propped himself up against the foot of the bed. Greg ran to Sara's side. She to the floor and without a word Greg found the shackle key and unlocked her cuff.

Shelling lay face up, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. His bowie knife protruded from his chest and as he gasped for air blood began to trickle from the corners of his mouth. Nick was caught as he saw Reggie's lips trying to form words as he pushed a shaking hand into his pocket. "I fucked him up real good... Johnny Boy..." With the last of his breath Reggie Shelling pulled his hand out of his pocket and his body slumped. As his hand fell to the floor it opened enough for Nick to see a picture of the two brothers resting in the dead man's palm.

Sara jumped off the bed and Greg followed her as she unsteadily ran over to Gil where he lay on the floor. She didn't seem to notice her nakedness and as she held him up Greg used the key to unlock his wrist cuffs and Sara cradled his limp body in her arms. Tears poured down her face as she got her first good look at the damage Shelling had done. She gently caressed the side of his face that had not received the brutal beating and held him close to her chest. Catherine and Warrick, who cradled his damaged hand, walked into the bed room and surveyed the damage as they joined to help their friends. When Greg went to help Nick and Catherine with Brass, Warrick slipped off his jacket and covered Sara with it. He then took a sheet off the bed and used it to cover his mentor's nakedness.

"Told you... we'd find him." Jim mumbled from where he sat on the floor.

A blood stain grew on the side of his polo shirt and he slumped to the floor. Catherine called dispatch as Nick and Greg jumped into action to save their friend. Jim began to pale as his blood continued to drain and he groaned in pain when Nick took off his shirt and held it against the wound.

"Greg, run down to the truck and get the first aid kit!" The Texan ordered and Greg obeyed.

In less than a minute Greg ran back into the bedroom carrying the full sized plastic case. Catherine closed her phone and carelessly shoved it in her pocket as she knelt next to her colleagues. "Ambulances are on their way ETA two minutes." She said as she took Jim's hand. "Stay with us, Jim, paramedics are on their way." Tears began to well in her eyes as she looked into those of her friend and saw the life in them slowly slipping away.

"He's losing too much blood!" Nick said in desperation as he applied more gauze to the wound.

As Warrick and Sara helplessly watched, Sara looked down at Gil. She noticed that he began to struggle for the shallow breaths that he was taking. "Gil? Baby?!"

As the ambulances pulled to a screeching halt outside both men stopped gasping for the air they so desperately needed. "He's not breathing!" Catherine yelled as she tightened her grip on Jim's hand and Nick stopped applying pressure and lay Jim down on his back as he frantically began CPR.

"Breathe, Gil! Take a fucking breath!" Sara screamed as she hurriedly laid him back down on the floor and tipped his head back to clear his airways.

The paramedics rushed up the stairs behind Greg who had gone down to meet them upon hearing them arrive. Once in the bed room they pushed Nick and Sara aside and the two teams immediately went to work on the helpless men as their lives slowly slipped away.

"I've got no pulse!" One of the paramedics yelled to his partner.

________________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: I warned you. I know that some of you are really pissed off right now and I understand. But it's about staying true to the characters and Reggie Shelling is a sick psycho. For that I am not going to apologize to anyone and if people get pissed and don't want to finish the story that's your call, not mine.** **If I seem harsh I apologize for that but I have decided that this is my story and it needs to be written the way I want to write it and I won't do Shelling the injustice of making him a daisy just to keep everyone happy. Life is harsh and sometimes we have to accept it and forge ahead. No matter how much it hurts or how much it feels like it is going to kill us. And the best way to express our pain is using a creative outlet, rather than taking it out on someone else or ourselves, and writing is my outlet.**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Thank you all for being very patient and not harassing me when I went past my usual one week post time. Life has been nuts and gotten in the way but here it is I hope you enjoy. A big thank you to JellyBeanChiChi for the beta job. **

**___________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Thirty-Nine

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"Hey," Catherine said as she knocked on the door to Sara's hospital room.

Sara looked up from where she reclined on the raised hospital bed and looked back down at her lap. "Hi," she said in a low voice.

"Thought you might like some company now that you're settled." Catherine stayed by the door waiting for a reply.

"Umm… yeah… I really don't want to be alone right now."

Catherine quietly shut the door and pulled a chair up to Sara's bedside. When she sat down Sara wouldn't look at her but when Catherine reached out and gently took hold of the younger woman's hand Sara held it in a strong grip. Catherine held Sara's hand as she watched the tears begin to well in her eyes until they ran down her cheeks.

"You want to talk about it?" Catherine's voice was soft and undemanding.

Sara was quiet for a long time as she kept her hold on Catherine's hand and let her tears subside a little. With her free hand Catherine passed her a tissue then tossed it in the trash for her when she was done. Sara rested her free hand on her belly and worried for her unborn child as she remembered Shelling striking her.

"He… umm… he hurt Gil… really bad." The tears came again and Sara looked away. "And he… made me watch."

Catherine was speechless. She had been too busy to take a good look at the crime scene but it had been a horrific reminder of the warehouse where they had found him the first time. Blood was spattered on the floor and implements of torture scattered carelessly about the room. She closed her eyes and pushed the images of her battered and naked friend out of her mind as Sara continued.

"He protected me…" Sara looked at Catherine for a brief moment before lowering her eyes again. "Gil stopped Shelling when he started… when he started to hurt me…"

"You don't have to tell me what happened," Catherine said when Sara took a much longer pause. "But I'm here for you, Sara… when you're ready."

Sara nodded gratefully and laid back and closed her eyes. She never let go of her friend's hand as her thoughts went to her beloved who lay in the operating room, fighting for his life.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Shelling's blade had pierced Jim's rib cage and struck an intercostal artery. He had lost a great deal of blood before arriving at Desert Palm hospital and the paramedics had a hard time finding and maintaining a pulse once they arrived at the scene. Once in surgery the skilled staff had quickly determined what the injury was and had successfully treated his wound although he had needed a number of blood transfusions and stitches and was resting comfortably in the intensive care unit.

Warrick took the seat next to Jim's bed when the doctor had cleared him for visitors. Although groggy the homicide detective opened his sleepy eyes and looked up at the younger man. "Hey…"

"Hey," Warrick replied with a gentle smile. "How you feeling?"

"I'm not sure…" Jim replied as he tried to lick his lips.

Warrick helped him take a drink of water and set the cup back down on the table. "You did it, man… You saved Grissom and Sara."

"No… we did it… Shelling would have cold cocked me a good one if you hadn't walked through the door… when… you did." As he finished his sentence Jim fell back asleep and Warrick smiled as he stood, and promised to come back before he left, thinking that Jim was becoming a lot like Gil. Business first.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Doctor Diller walked into the Sara's room and quietly greeted the Catherine when he recognized her from the last time he had treated his patient under these circumstances. "Same kidnapper as before?" Diller asked and Catherine nodded. "Did you guys get him?"

"Detective Brass killed him in a struggle." She quietly replied.

"Hmmm…" Diller looked thoughtful for a moment. "Good."

Catherine almost felt shocked to hear the doctor utter that word but said nothing as the man walk toward Sara who was sitting up and staring at the wall. Catherine quietly listened as he greeted the young brunette, giving his condolences that they were meeting under these circumstances again.

"How is Gil?" Sara asked in a small, worried voice. Grateful for the break in the awkward silence after giving his condolences Diller opened the file in his hand and jumped right into Gil's diagnosis.

Sara felt herself grow nauseous as with each injury listed the memory of how he had gotten it flashed in her mind. The extensive damage to his knee that would postpone his replacement surgery for at least six weeks. The painstaking process of finding and removing the twenty-three roach clips that had been embedded in his chest, stomach and sides and the removal of the six that had still been attached to his penis and scrotum.

The image of the pained and horrified look on his face as Shelling anally raped him returned to her when Diller explained the new tearing in Gil's rectum and the need for new stitches and laxatives. She remembered Shelling straddling Gil's chest as he beat on the side of the older man's face with his fist when Diller explained that the plastic surgeon had repaired the damage done to his orbital and cheek bones on the left side of his face while they had him in the operating room.

Diller paused for a moment, catching himself when he saw the broken expression on Sara's face. Wanting to be done with the horrible list of injuries he had found himself quickly reading through the paper in the file in his hand and when he heard her soft sob he looked up and stopped. Catherine immediately sat down on the bed beside her. and wrapped her arms around Sara and held her close while the younger woman cried in her embrace.

"He didn't deserve this…" Sara sobbed. "He tried to protect me."

Diller waited until Sara had calmed and asked her if she wanted him to finish. She quietly nodded her head and waited for him to continue. Diller cleared his throat before going on. "X-Rays revealed that he… umm… has a number of broken and cracked ribs…"

"What about his eyes?" Sara asked as she remembered watching Shelling push his thumbs into Gil's eyes and she could still hear his screams of pain.

"Gil has suffered a hyphema in both eyes. Do you know if he was struck with some object?"

"Yes," Sara's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Shelling used his thumbs."

Catherine and Diller both cringed and he continued. "He has been examined by our ophthalmologist and prescribed eye drop and corticosteroids for the swelling. There was some damage to the surrounding tissue which resulted in bleeding but after a day or two he can lose the bandages and wear eye patches. But only until the hyphema's heal. Probably in a couple of weeks."

"Is he going to be… blind?"

"I don't think so, no. But he may develop glaucoma's in both eyes in years to come so it will be something that he will have to watch closely and make annual eye appointments with his regular ophthalmologist." Diller paused for a long moment and looked regretful. "When we saw the facial damage we had a cat scan done. The healing fracture on the back of his skull was reopened and I'm afraid… due to that and the beating he took to the side of his face… he has a severe concussion. We'll monitor him closely and do what we can… but the rest is up to him."

When Diller was done he assured Sara that he would be around and keep her updated on Gil and quietly left. Catherine stayed in the room until the charge nurse came in and told them that they could see Gil but only for short periods.

Both Catherine and the nurses insisted Sara be wheeled into the ICU. Sara tried to be strong and not cave but she couldn't stop her tears as she was wheeled up to his bedside and given her first good look at him since they left the scene in two separate ambulances.

An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose and thick, white bandages covered both eyes and the left side of his face. He had not been put in a hospital gown for the simple fact the it would encumber the nurses need to routinely change his bandages. So they kept him covered with a blanket and maintained his privacy by keeping the curtain pulled.

When she had calmed a bit Sara pulled the blanket back, revealing the small white bandages that were scattered over his torso and when she looked down further she could see that his genitals had been wrapped in white gauze. Sara sat with him until the nurse told them that they needed to leave but could come back later.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

To be on the safe side an ultrasound was performed when Sara was brought into the emergency room the night they had been kidnapped. Although she had developed a large and painful bruise on her abdomen she was assured that the baby had been protected by her pelvic bone and that the fetus was fine and growing as should be.

Sara had been released after two days and spent as much time at the hospital as was allowed by the team until she was a little better. Jim and Gil were moved into a regular room together when they both seemed to be sharing a rapid and healthy recovery. Sara spent her days at the hospital and was silently grateful that no one hassled her about it.

She spent the day sitting between Gil and Jim's side by side beds, holding Gil's hand as he lay unconscious. For the first few days, she talked with Jim and kept silent when he tried to nap. She had asked Greg to bring in a game of checkers and she and Jim kept a running score sheet to keep from going nuts with the silence and boredom.

The rest of the team checked in every day and spent a most of their time visiting though it seemed awkward between each of them and Sara. They brought outside meals for Sara and Jim although he complained about all the healthy selections he was forced to eat. But if he was completely honest the grumbling kept him from becoming emotional due to the kindness of his friends. His family, really, if he was going to be completely honest. During the night Sara slept in the recliner that one of the nurses had been so kind to get for her.

There were very few signs of life from Gil. The steady beat of his heart monitor. The slow rise and fall of his chest. And his grip on Sara's hand that rarely faltered. Doctor Maria Kitts had been on to examine Gil and give her condolences to Sara that it had happened again. She was pleased to offer a small amount of light when she informed Sara that Gil was not in a coma, just a deep sleep as he was before.

Four days after his admittance to the hospital Gil awoke with a start. He had been having a nightmare and Sara was trying to soothe him. Jim watched from where he lay in his bed and wished that he could help. Gil bolted upright in bed screaming Sara's name despite her reassuring him that she was right there and that he was alright.

Three nurses ran into the room upon hearing his screams and gathered around the bed. They all held him down as the charge nurse injected a sedative into his IV. Sara cupped his face with her hands, being gentle with the battered left side of his head, and spoke softly to him.

"It's okay, Gil, we're safe now. We're at the hospital."

"I c-c-can't see you, S-S-Sara!" His voice was full of panic. "I c-c-can't see you!"

"I know, you have bandages on your eyes. It's okay, you're safe."

Gil began to relax as the drugs took effect. "P-P-Please, S-Sara… d-d-don't l-leave me," he begged in a broken voice.

"I will never leave you." She reassured.

Gil spent the next few days floating in and out of consciousness. Nightmares haunted him and there were a number of times that he woke up screaming and had to be sedated. When Sara sat with him and he was aware of her presence Gil held her hand but kept his face turned away from her. When she spoke to him his responses were vague or short. She recalled the symptoms that he suffered the last time he had been concussed and didn't say anything. He would always stop himself and turn away if his anger began to get the best of him. She and Jim kept up conversation and tried to do the same with him despite his lack of response.

After a week the doctor had decided that Jim could go home as long as he was careful of his stitches and he would have to have someone living with him for a while to give him a hand with daily tasks so that he didn't strain himself. Jim was adamant that he didn't need anyone to stay with him and that he would be fine. Unfortunately for him Catherine had been visiting when the doctor had told him of his discharge and immediately informed the doctor that Jim would be staying with her and her daughter until he was back on his feet. Despite all of his grumbling Catherine helped him get dressed and then helped him to carefully make his way over to Gil's bedside so he could say goodbye before they finally left.

The silence that was left behind when Jim left made the tension between Gil and Sara grow. He became more withdrawn by the day and buried himself in his thoughts and self-loathing. It was when he began to withdraw his hand from hers that she finally decided to put a stop to it.

"We need to talk, Gil," Sara said as she sat on the side of the bed and took his hand. "About what happened."

He tried to pull his hand away. "I d-don't w-w-want to t-talk ab-bout it."

Sara held his hand in a firm grip and placed his open palm on her belly. "We need to. You're angry, Gil, and what concerns me is who you're angry at." Sara struggled with the growing lump in her throat. "Are you angry with me?"

"N-No," He seemed shocked that she would think that. "I c-c-could n-never be angry w-w-with you."

"Then who are you angry with?"

Gil was silent for a long time and when Sara was about to speak again he lost what little control had. "I'm angry with m-m-myself! I hate m-m-myself!"

"Why?"

"I should have been able to p-protect you. I n-never should have l-let him hurt you l-like that! He… he r-r-raped you, Sara… and I c-c-couldn't p-protect you."

"No, Gil… you saved me. You took the hurtful thing that he was going to do to me and asked him to do it to you instead, even though you already knew how painful and degrading and humiliating it was." Tears began to roll down her cheeks though he couldn't see them and her voice was reduced to a whisper. "And you did that for me. I can never love you enough for that, Gil."

He stopped trying to pull his hand away and let it mold to her belly which now bore a slight bulge. If he could have wept he would have. If it weren't for the bandages Sara would have seen his tears as the expression of her love for him melted his self-hatred into rain that fell away to be dried up and disappear.

Sara knew that Gil couldn't see the baby as her next ultrasound was due but she would gift him with something as good if not better that afternoon. Gil lay in bed and couldn't quite make out the sounds he heard. Sara greeted someone as they entered the room and he heard the clunking sounds of something being wheeled into the room.

"S-Sara… w-w-what's g-going on?"

"A special surprise, just for you." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips before moving away.

Gil silently listened as a woman told Sara to lie back. His brow creased as he heard her sharp intake of breath. Then a new sound entered the silence of the room. It was so small. So tiny. But strong. _Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump._ His breath caught in his throat and he turned his face in the direction that he knew Sara was.

"Is that…?" He was choked with tears.

"Yes," Sara answered.

"It's the most beautiful thing I have ever heard."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

No one expected things to be back to normal now that Shelling was dead. No one expected the guilt that each of them felt for their inability to protect their friends to just go away in an instant. They all took their time and worked their way through the awkwardness that they all felt at being around Gil and Sara after he was released from the hospital.

The day before he had been released the patches were removed from his eyes. Even the dim lighting in the room bothered him until his eyes were able to readjust. The ophthalmologist explained that the red tint to his eye was the blood that had pooled within his eye due to the hyphema and would go away in time.

They were pleasantly surprised when they arrived home to find that the team had invaded a bit while they were gone. The guys had done a lot of rearranging. They had moved everything out of the downstairs bedroom and into the living room or storage and moved Gil and Sara's bedroom downstairs. They had made handicap accommodations in the downstairs bathroom to make it easier for Gil to get on and off the toilet and in and out of the shower. They had built a ramp in and out of the house and garage as he had been given a wheel chair so that he had no excuse to stay off his feet.

Ecklie had been very good about dealing with Gil and Sara and their individual needs for time off. Gil was still out on medical leave and would be for some time to come. He still needed someone nearby on a regular basis as the brain damage had been much more extensive this time. As before the team took turns in staying at the townhouse while Sara would work.

Gil suffered with frequent dizzy spells and splitting headaches. His stuttering got the best of him on a regular basis and so did his anger at not being able to communicate very well. The harder he tried the more he stuttered, the more he stuttered the more angry he became.

Despite his embarrassment no one let him stay shut inside his home like they had before. They never made him go into crowded areas as it made him very uneasy but they would take him outside or to one of the local parks and spend the afternoon sitting under a tree reading. Sometimes Gil would ask whoever he was with how things were at the lab but it was rarely an item that came up during their conversations.

He worked hard when he was put through speech and physical therapy, especially after his successful knee replacement. Sara tried hard to make it to each and every one of his appointments and when she couldn't make it one of the others did. Despite his desire for privacy Gil felt it comforting and uplifting when one of the others would accompany him to a therapy session. It felt encouraging when he would hear them cheer him on at whatever task was being asked of him.

Finally the time came when Sara was ready to go back to work but unsure if she was ready to leave Gil alone at night. "S-Sara, I'll b-be fine." Gil said as he took her hand and she sat in the chair in front of him. "Honey, Sh-Shelling's dead and g-g-gone. He c-can't hurt us anym-more."

"But what if you fall , Gil, you could really hurt yourself and you would be all alone." She reasoned.

"I'll b-be here w-w-with Hank and I have m-my cell phone in c-case of an em-mergency. I'll be f-fine, S-S-Sara, really I w-will."

His innocent, little smile had been the icing and she reluctantly gathered her things and left. He had a lot of time to think after she left. He knew he had a lot of decisions to make now that the ordeal was over and he was home again. He had a lot to consider about his career and his family. And he was sure that would all begin with a phone call to Conrad Ecklie at some point.

TBC

___________________________________________________________________________

**A/N: See... I didn't hurt the baby. You people got all worked up over nothing. LOL! Go ahead. Hit that little button down there** **and tell me what a mean person I am for letting your imagination run wild. I dare you!**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: I can honestly say that just a few, short months ago I did _not_ see this day coming. This is the official end to what has been a personal, major victory for me. This is the first multi-chapter that I have ever finished. I want to thank a lot of people involved in the writing of this story but that list would be way too long for an author's note:) I want to thank JellyBeanChiChi who offered her help back around chapter 7. Without her help I would have dropped this story a _long_ time ago as there were many times that I lost my zeal for this tale and she pulled me out of the muck. I want to thank sidle77 for being a sounding board and keeping me accountable not to sissyfy Grissom. (I won't use her term here;) I also want to thank Moonstarer and Kalsan for being an awesome encouragement and there have been so many others. And Prowriter11 who was the first one to tell me that this was my story and I should tell my tale the way I want. I espescially all of you who took the time to review it was a huge encouragement and very uplifting throughout. This has been a hell of a ride and you all have been the best.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains nasty, graphic fluff. The fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed a fluff. It's so fluffy that it made some people hurl. (But what can I say, after all I've put you through with this story I think you all deserve a sickly sweet ending:)**

**___________________________________________________________________________**

Chapter Forty

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil was sitting at his desk researching birthing techniques on his laptop when Sara and Catherine and her daughter Lindsey walked through the door that evening after spending the day shopping for the upcoming wedding. Five months had past since the couple had been kidnapped by Reggie Shelling and he was becoming more and more of a shadow as each day passed.

Gil logged off as he heard the three chatting women walk into the living room and Sara called his name. "I'll be right out," he said as he stood and grabbed his cane. His knee had been successfully replaced and his need for therapy sessions had lessened over the last two months as he had recovered more and more from the surgery. He still walked with a limp and needed only a small amount of aid from the black cane with the red dragon that wrapped around it until it came up and formed the handle with its head, that had been a gift from the team as a sign of a new beginning.

He limped into the living room to see it filled with bags and bags of goods from their day out. He let out a loud sigh, announcing his presence, and Sara looked up and smiled. "How much did this trip soak me for?" He asked ruefully.

"Nothing," Sara grinned as she stepped forward and kissed him full on the lips. "Jim's paying for it."

"Huh?"

"Jim told me last night that he wanted to pay for our wedding. He said that he had two daughters and wanted to pay for at least one wedding in his life, so it might as well be mine. But he told me to tell you not to expect a dowry."

Gil chuckled as Lindsey walked back into the living room after using the bathroom. "Uncle Gil!" She said excitedly and ran over to give him a big hug.

He hugged her in return and kissed the soft, blond locks on the top of her head. "Hi, sweetie, how was your d-day?"

"Good. Sara bought me a new dress for the wedding and matching shoes and a _gorgeous_ necklace to go with them."

Gil smiled at her enthusiasm as she went to the pile of bags to get out her treasures to show him. His perspective had changed since the second kidnapping and recovery. He began to realize how much he really loved the ones that were close to him. He began to realize the real meaning of family and how much his family really meant to him and he had gone to great strides to open up to the ones that mattered to him and let them into his life. Sara looked up at him and smiled when she saw the look in his eyes and knew that he was thinking of what he would be looking forward to in years to come when their own daughter would be excited about new interests that she would eventually take.

After they were done showing off their spoils, Catherine taking on the same excitement as her daughter, Catherine said that it was time to get home so Lindsey could finish her school project that Gil had been helping her with after school every day for the last two weeks.

After their company had left Sara pulled out a catalogue and opened it to a marked page to show Gil the wedding gown she had picked out. "What do you think?"

"Sara… It's… beautiful…" He took the catalogue and took a closer look. "But I have to ask… W-Why blue? W-Why not the traditional w-white?"

"Well, Mr. Grissom, surely you know that according to tradition only brides who are pure and untouched wear white as it is a sign of purity." Sara grinned. "Although at one time I was as pure as the driven snow."

"Yeah but you d-drifted." He smirked and she swatted at him playfully as he dropped the catalogue on the couch and grabbed her ass.

"Yeah, well, you didn't help there, Romeo." She kissed his lips and let it linger before becoming serious again. "And don't think, for a moment, that I'm ashamed of _ever_ giving my love to you."

Gil smiled as he caressed her face before claiming her mouth in a long, passion filled kiss that was only broken when their unborn daughter kicked Gil in the stomach. "Jeez, she hasn't even been born yet and she's already kicking me around." They smiled as he rested his hand on her stomach, only to be kicked three more times. After a minute or two he let his hand slide up to cup her breast and brought his other hand up to gently cup the other. Although a little sensitive Sara loved the feel of his touch and arched into his hands.

"Mmmm… boobies." Gil said, changing the mood of the moment and Sara rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "What? I like your boobies. They're plump boobies."

She raised an eyebrow. "Boobies?"

"_I _like boobies. I like _your_ boobies." He lowered his voice to a sultry tone as he pulled down her V neck shirt and freed her left breast from its cloth restraint before lowering his head to kiss it tenderly.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil stood outside Conrad's office and knocked on the door. He had spent the last five months talking to Sara and Stacey and had finally come to the decision that he was about to give to his boss. It was not something that he had ever thought lightly of and had even spent a few sleepless nights thinking about it before he finally made his decision.

Conrad summoned him inside and Gil entered before shutting the door and taking the seat across from the balding man behind the desk. "Good morning, Gil,"

"Morning, Conrad,"

"How are you doing?"

"Better, thank you."

The atmosphere seemed awkward between the two men and they did the only thing that seemed natural between them. They got right down to business. "I assume this isn't a social call, Gil."

"No, Conrad, it's not." Gil took a deep breath. "I've been giving a lot of thought to my future and… I've finally come to the d-decision that… I can no longer be a CSI." Ecklie silently nodded and didn't seem surprised in the least. "Sara and I are getting married, w-we have a baby on the w-way… and… I can't d-do this anymore. I am no longer physically, mentally or emotionally able to cope with my w-work. And my d-doctors agreed w-when I finally admitted that to myself." Gil kept his eyes on the floor as he waited for the false response of sorrow from his supervisor.

"I've known since we last talked that you would be coming to tell me that some day soon." Neither man found it comfortable to look each other in the eye until Conrad continued. "I know I've been an asshole, Gil, and what's happened to you has really made me stop and think about a lot of things. About a lot of things that I need to change about myself and the way I treat my colleagues and… the job. I just hope that we can bury any problems that we've had in the past so that when you leave we're on… decent terms." There was a long moment of silence when all Gil could do was nod his head despite the confusion that was so evident on his face. "I spoke with the sheriff and the commissioner and got you a full pension and early retirement. I even went to the workman's comp board and explained the situation and you are going to receive full workman's comp for all the time that you missed since your first kidnapping until your actual termination date. Which arrives once you have used up all of the rest of your accumulated sick time. The vacation time can just be cashed in."

"How d-d-do I get to use that? I'm d-done, Conrad, I can't d-do this anymore." Gil was annoyed that his supervisor might try to talk him into staying.

"I explained to the mayor that it would be a great disservice to one of our greatest public servants if he didn't receive all of the benefits that he has earned and come to deserve and that the great city of Las Vegas would be most upset if they ever learned that their mayor didn't do all that he could to help benefit such a great man and outstanding citizen."

Gil was speechless. He searched for something to say but nothing came to mind. He realized that Conrad was holding out a file folder for him and saying something and refocused. "This is the paperwork that you'll need to fill out. Disability, workman's comp., insurance and we need a signed letter from you stating that you are done for your file." Conrad waited for his colleague to respond.

Gil felt a strange swell of emotions within himself as he looked from Ecklie to the folder and back again. When he found his voice it was choked but he managed three words, spoken only in a whisper. "Thank you, Conrad."

When Gil left his supervisor's office he felt a great sense of relief wash over him and a strong feeling that he had made the right decision. He now knew that he could walk away and not feel guilty and realized that if he could forgive himself for what he thought would have been abandoning his career and calling than he could forgive himself for other things too.

The more he thought about the guilt he had felt over the last several months and the more he analyzed it as he walked towards the break room the more things seemed to become clear to him. It felt like a great revelation as he began to realize that all of the self-hatred he felt during the recovery following his first kidnapping and rape was unjustified.

He began to realize that he had no reason to feel guilty for something that happened to him that he couldn't stop. He suddenly remembered from the very beginning that he had tried to fight but had been overpowered and beaten. As that memory entered his mind it was followed by a race of others that wasn't broken until he felt a gentle hand on his arm.

"You okay?" Sara quietly asked as she stood before him.

He looked into her loving, brown eyes and realized that if he could let go of the guilt he felt when he was incapable of protecting himself than he could let go of the guilt he felt when he was incapable of protecting the woman he loved with his mind, body and soul. In that moment he decided that somehow he would find the strength to forgive himself for what had happened to Sara during their kidnapping. He would let go of the failure that he still felt, despite her reassurance, that he had not been able to fully protect her from an animal like Shelling.

Sara repeated her question and Gil only nodded as he smiled. "Okay," her voice was low and reassuring. "You ready to go home?" Again he only nodded.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Most of his stuff was packed and now Gil was cleaning out his desk. The team had been helpful but reluctant to see him go. They understood that after all that he had been through it would no longer be possible for him to be a CSI. They understood that each new case could possibly make him relive it all and that was no way for him to live and it was too much to put his family through.

Grissom looked at a picture of the team that had set on his desk for some time now and sighed as he sat back. Catherine watched him from where she sat across from him and a gentle smile etched itself across her features. "You made the right decision, Gil."

"I know," his lingered on the picture for a moment longer before he looked up at her. "But it's hard to let go of something that you have done for so long."

"You'll find something else to occupy your time. You'll have the baby to take care of… and your bugs."

"I can teach her to love bugs." He smiled hopefully.

"Well, you can try. She _is_ a girl, don't forget."

"Sara likes bugs."

"This is true."

He finished packing his things as the guys crowded into his office which would soon be Catherine's. The three CSI's, detective and coroner all gathered around the desk. They all looked sad, which in all honesty made Gil feel a little guilty although that was never their intent. He looked at each of them in turn, trying to figure out what to say to each of them as a parting word from a mentor and colleague. But before he could utter a word his cell phone rang.

"It's Sara," he said apologetically as he looked up at them and opened his phone. "Hey, honey… Sara, slow down… Your what broke?" Gil's eyes went wide as he looked up at his friends and became very excited. "Okay, you stay there, I'll be home in ten minutes!" He was just about to hang up when his emotions got the best of him and he lifted the phone to his ear again and spoke sweetly. "I love you, honey."

Everyone hid their laughter when they heard Sara scream and Gil cringe. _"Don't honey me, get your ass home!"_

Gil sat dumbstruck for a moment after hanging up his phone as the reality of the situation set in. He looked at Jim and spoke with an awestruck tone. "I'm having a baby… I'm having baby?"

"Well, Sara's having the baby, but yes, Gil, you're having a baby." Jim grinned.

In a flash the reality of what was happening hit Gil in the face like a bullet train. He surged out of his chair, sending it flying into the empty book case behind and grabbed his cane. Everyone was startled by the outburst and hurried after him as he ran for the door. He limped on his still healing knee as he headed out the door and in the wrong direction.

"No, Gil," Catherine called. "This way!"

As they ran down the corridor, Gil going as fast as his legs would carry him, people hurried to get out of the way. "I'm a father!" Gil shouted excitedly as they passed the conference room containing Ecklie and both the sheriff and under sheriff. The three men, all well aware of everything that had happened, watched the group pass with raised eyebrows until they were out of sight.

Jim spared no speed as he gunned it down the road to the townhouse. His lights flashed and his sirens blared as he ran every red light and stop sign that stood in his path. They made it to the townhouse in record time and Jim and Gil ran inside to collect Sara while Nick grabbed her suit case that had been sitting by the door for the last week. Sara panted as they slowly made their way down the front steps. She was doing the breathing exercises that she had been taught in birthing class and gripped her companion's hands tightly.

"Are you sure the baby's coming?" Gil asked as they reached the bottom.

Sara was just about to call him an idiot when a contraction hit and she screamed through her gritted teeth as she doubled. As the pain subsided a little she glared at her fiancé. "YES THE BABY'S COMING!" She snapped.

They helped her into the back seat and she slid into the middle as Gil got in one side and Catherine stayed on the other. Jim made the same time to Desert Palm Hospital as he had to the townhouse. Weaving in around traffic, running lights and stop signs without hesitation. All while trying to concentrate over the noise and commotion in the back seat.

When they arrived at the hospital they helped Sara inside and into a wheel chair. As she sat somewhat still riding out each contraction she screamed when the latest one hit. When it passed Greg was standing beside her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked at Nick.

"It can't be _that_ bad." He whispered, thinking that Sara wouldn't hear him.

"Can't be that bad?! Can't be that bad!" She yelled. "Do you wanna know how bad it is, Greg?"

Before he had time to react Sara hit him the groin with the side of her clenched fist. Greg grabbed his manhood as his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. Every guy cringed and two nurses ran over and took control of the wheel chair, pushing Sara towards the delivery room with Gil in tow. Nick and Warrick pulled Greg to his feet and they all made their way to the waiting room.

The delivery room was chaotic. Between watching the nurses prepare Sara for delivery and listening to the doctor giving orders Gil felt a little overwhelmed. But he made his way to Sara's bedside and took her hand as another contraction hit. Gil had worried about his role in the birth of his daughter and was afraid of being in the way of the staff and wondered if he should be there. But as he tried his best to sooth and encourage Sara he felt an odd sense of comfort and purpose.

The delivery took several tiring hours and when their daughter slipped from between Sara's legs and her cries filled the delivery room smiles appeared on everyone's face and tears filled her loving parent's eyes. The doctor placed her face down on her Sara's abdomen and as the nurses began to clean up both mother and baby they were all amazed when the little wonder began to slowly crawl towards her mother's breast.

"Is that normal?" Gil asked in wonder.

"Yes," The doctor smiled. "Some babies are just that ready to breast feed. It's important that she is allowed to do it if she can, it aids in the bonding between mother and child. Will you be breast feeding, Sara?"

"Yes," Sara choked passed her tears as she watched her daughter's struggle in complete adoration.

After close to an hour the newborn reached her destination and nuzzled up to Sara's breast and began to suckle hungrily. Gil pressed a kiss to Sara's forehead as they watched their daughter suckle and when she was done the nurses took her from Sara and cleaned them both.

One of the older nurses had recognized the couple from when Gil had been one of her patients during his first time in the hospital after his first kidnapping and when she spoke to him she maintained a soft voice. "Would you like to hold your daughter?" She asked as she wrapped the infant in a blanket and another nurse placed a small, knit cap on her head.

"Yes… I w-would." As Gil cradled his daughter she licked her lips contentedly and snuggled into his arms. He had never seen anything so beautiful before.

"What's her name?" The nurse asked as she watched the tender moment.

"Celeste Lissa Grissom. Because I looked into the heavens and prayed for a miracle and was given something so sweet." Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke to his daughter, like there were only the two of them in that moment. "Celeste Lissa Grissom."

Upon hearing her father's voice little Celeste opened her eyes and looked up at him. Tiny, blue orbs met bigger ones and a tiny smile formed on her tiny mouth. Then she let out a big yawn and fell asleep in her father's arms.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil's right leg bounced up and down as he sat in the back room of the church. His hands were cold and clammy and the room felt stifling despite the air conditioning. The black tuxedo didn't help at all. The reassurance s that he had been given worked a little and Gil had calmed some but a wave of uncertainty flashed in his eyes and Jim didn't miss it. "You okay, Gil?"

"I d-don't think I can d-do this, Jim."

"What do you mean?" Jim felt a little concerned that his friend was getting cold feet but didn't let it show.

"I'm not g-good enough for Sara. I d-don't deserve her,"

"Hey," Jim said as he held up his hand to put a halt on his friend's train of thought. "No one loves Sara, like you do. And no one loves you, like Sara does. Every time I see the two of you look at each other I can see that. You're about to make a big commitment today and believe me I know how scary it is. But when you stand up there and say those two little words… you'll feel differently. You already make a great father, Gil, and once this is over you're gonna make a hell of a husband."

"But I'm not the man I used to be." Gil's eyes fell to the floor and a blush began to creep up his face. "W-What if I can't say it? W-What if this st-tutter…"

"Hey, Sara doesn't care about your stutter. Because she knows that doesn't make you who you are. It's just a part of the man she loves." Gil nodded as the things Jim said sunk in. "Now, do I have to go home and get my shot gun?"

They had decided to have just a simple ceremony with only their closest friends there to bear witness. They met each other before the judge with Jim as Gil's best man and Catherine as Sara's maid of honor. As the others stood behind them in a half circle Nick cradled two month old Celeste in his arms. They had both decided to let the judge lead them in the traditional vows, mostly due to Gil's stutter and his fear of embarrassing himself in front of everyone and ruining their day.

Gil didn't know how Sara seemed to be so calm as she stood beside him when he himself had difficulty concentrating on what the justice of the peace was saying. All he could think about was that he was going to screw up his one line. He imagined himself sounding like Porky Pig and the thought of everyone behind him laughing at him made s anxious feelings intensify. Then he heard it.

"As long as you both shall live?"

As he looked into Sara's reassuring eyes a great calmness fell over him. "I do."

He placed the ring on Sara's finger and as soon as the judge told him to kiss the bride he grabbed her in an excited lip lock. Everyone cheered as the minister presented Mr. and Mrs. Gil Grissom for the first time and hugs and handshakes went around the room.

As a wedding gift Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Greg had spared no expense when they rented the room at the Bellagio where they had the ceremony and in the larger, adjoining room had the reception. Not one detail was left out. From the catering to the décor, from the music to the photographer. Both Gil and Sara were grateful and truth be told a little overwhelmed at their friend's generosity and thoughtfulness. Right down to the bells placed on the tables. Both bride and groom said that they would be hearing bells in their sleep for as many times as they were rung during the party for the couple to kiss and Sara shocked her husband when she whispered in his ear that if this kept up her lips would be swollen before they even started the honeymoon. Gil blushed a little at the double meaning of her words and felt himself begin to harden. Needless to say he was glad that his lower extremities were covered by their table.

When it came time for the bride and groom to have their first dance Sara cringed a little at the thought of what their song would be. Gil had asked her if he could pick their song to and had been a little insistent. Considering his taste in music she was a little afraid of what might come out of the speakers.

But when the first notes and soothing sounds of 'I Turn To You' by All-4-One began to play she was a little surprised to say the least. Every time they sang the chorus he joined in but only loud enough for her to hear as he held her close. "For a shield from the storm, for a friend, for a love to keep me safe and warm, I turn to you. For the strength to be strong, for the will to carry on. For everything you do, for everything that's true, I turn to you." As the song came to a close Gil kissed her passionately on the lips and the disk jockey put on a more energizing song and others began to gather on the floor.

After a few hours of partying the festivities finally came to a close and they finally started saying their goodbyes. Before the big day Al had presented them with his gift for them and they learned that he had somewhat been in cahoots with the others. He had rented them the bridal suit for three nights as neither of them had decided on honeymoon plans. What they hadn't realized was that Al had as nasty a practical joke streak as Greg. Their first night had been one of insane hilarity as the discovered short sheets, cellophane covered toilet seats and to top it all off at three in the morning fifteen different alarm clocks, that were scattered throughout the room, all went off at the same time. They later decided that they should have known that something was truly up when Catherine had been so eager to watch Celeste for them while they honeymooned.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The following months brought a lot of joy to the Grissom household despite the early feedings and smelly diapers and their daughter's seeming joy at throwing up on them at every chance she got. Gil delighted in watching Sara breast feed Celeste whenever he had the chance and had even joked a time or two that he wanted a turn and that she was going to have to learn to share. Both Sara and Catherine took pictures on their phones when they came in from a lunch out and found Gil in nothing but boxer shorts and Celeste in only a diaper with her sleeping face down on his bare chest where he napped on the couch. Each member of the team, including Al, received it in a text with a death threat that it stayed in the family.

Sara had decided to stay working at the lab while they trained replacements and after that she was going to resign and maybe go to teaching at the university or even the local high school if she could get a position teaching science. Gil called her whenever he got up to feed Celeste and one night he decided to make a trip to the lab, as they were both wide awake, and take Sara some dinner.

Everyone was happy to see him again and excited to see the baby. For the most part Celeste was in a great mood and very happy to have all the attention. Each of the team were weekly visitors at the townhouse but they loved every minute that they got to share with the little miracle who has now resting in Grandpa Jim's arms. Celeste had just emptied her bottle and he had gone to burping her. As they all chit chatted about their night, with Gil happily listening, they heard Jim groan and turned to see him cringe as he hunched his shoulders.

"Son of a-" He caught himself before the curse slipped out and passed Celeste back to her mother. "She threw up right down the back of my shirt."

Everyone laughed and the detective grumbled as he left the break room and headed for the locker room and a shower. But not before smiling at the infant, who now seemed much happier, and lightly tapping her on the nose with the tip of his finger.

"I have to get something that I forgot and left my- I mean Catherine's office and she has forgot to bring me." Gil said as he put the lid on the plastic dish that had carried Sara's dinner.

"Okay, I'll wait here with Celeste." Sara replied before returning her attention to her daughters smiling face and blowing gentle raspberries on her cheek.

As Gil returned from Catherine's office he passed one of the labs where Nick and Warrick had returned to work. The two men had theirs backs to the door and were unaware of his presence as he stopped when he heard a familiar name.

"I've just never gotten over Michael O'Tool's reaction," Nick was saying. "He started crying and trying to explain that he only hurt Grissom because Shelling and Denalgio had hurt him."

"And you didn't believe him?" Warrick asked without accusation.

"I don't know, man. I mean, I saw the scars that he had from the abuse he took but come on… is that any reason to take it out on someone who never did anything to you?"

The rest of the conversation was lost to Gil as he walked back to the break room to say goodbye to Sara and take Celeste home. It had been over a year now since he had first been kidnapped and they finally, truly put it behind them. But there was something that had still never set right with Gil and he had buried it long ago instead of trying to figure it out. As he listened to his friends talk about his tormentor he heard another side of O'Tool's story. One that he had never really considered before. Probably because he was so angry about what had been done to him that it clouded his mind and consumed him.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gil took a deep breath as he sat down in the chair and looked at the younger man on the other side of the Plexiglas. His looks hadn't changed much since the last time that Gil had seen him and it was no real surprise. Michael O'Tool couldn't meet his eyes but obeyed when Gil motioned for him to pick up the phone on his side of the booth. Both men lifted the phones to their ears and there was a long, uncomfortable silence between them.

"Why did you come here?" Michael asked timidly.

"I'm not sure," Gil reluctantly replied. "I heard of your reaction when you were interrogated after being arrested and felt the need to see you." Michael was fully prepared to hear the words 'I hate you' come from Gil's mouth as he had said them to himself every time he looked in a mirror. But what he was not prepared for was what Gil did say. "I… don't know… if I can ever forgive you for what you did to me. It almost ruined my life. But I have come to the realization that… I don't want to hate you anymore. That I don't want to hold onto this grudge anymore." Gil looked away for a minute as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat. "This doesn't have to be the end for you. You can change it. Good luck in here, Michael."

Gil hung up the phone without waiting for a reply and stood and walked away. When he was outside again and the warm afternoon sun hit his face he lost control of his emotions as he walked to Catherine's SUV. She was waiting for him in the truck and when he climbed into the passengers seat she asked him if he was okay. All he could do was nod as he buckled his seat belt and she took it as her cue to drive away.

He closed his eyes as he rested his head back and rubbed eyes. Catherine remained silent but stole glances at her friend as she drove. When they reached the townhouse Catherine asked if he would be alright and wanted her to stay. He thanked her and assured that he was okay now that he was home and Sara was there.

When he walked into the nursery and found Celeste sleeping he stood by her crib for a moment and watched her. Then he padded in his stocking feet to the bedroom where Sara was sleeping after a night at the lab sat down on the side of the bed. She stirred in her sleep and slowly woke. She looked up at him and smiled but it faded when she saw the tears in his eyes. "Everything okay?" She asked as she sat up.

He pulled her into an embrace and she hugged him tight. "Yeah," He choked out. Tears of relief flooded down his cheeks as he finally realized he was free.

**The End**

_____________________________________________________________________________

**Or is it???**


End file.
